The Workaholic
by Zarla
Summary: In an alternate universe, Vincent has just entered college. Once there, he makes friends, studies, and tries to make it through college without his head exploding. Cameos from FFIV/II through IX. Eventual Cid x Vincent shounen-ai.
1. Orientation

The Workaholic  
(By "Freakin 2 Unlimited Songs" Zar)  
(Warning: I am not responsible for any mental damage caused by reading this fic.)

There was nothing like being torn from one place that didn't understand you and ignored you, to a BIGGER place that not only ignored you, but didn't care at all.

He had a suitcase and a backpack with him when he stepped off the bus, and he felt painfully small amidst a large group of milling people, people who seemed to know where they were going. He stood there in silence for a moment, not sure of where he should go, and everyone seemed to be heading in different directions. He waited, his scarlet eyes panning over the crowd repeatedly, looking for some kind of focus, some kind of idea where he should go.

He adjusted his backpack as it began to dig into his collarbone and felt the aching in his back lessen for only a second, then return with greater force as the backpack slid back to it's former position. He sighed. He shouldn't have taken so many books with him, but he couldn't help himself. He had guessed from his previous situation that he would not be making many friends, and although he had not even gone to class, attempted conversation, or even met his roommate, he had a feeling that his assumption would be correct.

The claws on his metal arm creaked slightly and he slid his sweater over the golden metal. He never felt comfortable discussing the deformity, and he didn't want attention payed to it at the moment. All he wanted right now was to find a place where he could put his stuff down.

He walked forward slightly, his suitcase fortunately on wheels so it wasn't as much of an ordeal as his backpack, and looked towards the large, looming building in front of him. That must be where he was supposed to go.

Before he knew what was happening, the world flipped sideways sharply, and he cried out as his backpack overbalanced him, and he fell back onto the pavement, the grit digging sharply into his elbows even through his thick sweater.

Someone began shaking him.

He wanted to rub his head with his left arm, but decided at the moment that would be unwise. His right arm was pinned at the moment by....  
Someone's backpack?

He opened his eyes and found sky-blue ones staring at his in concern and worry.

"Hey, hey? Are you okay? #$^#, 'm sorry, #%&#, this is just #$^#in' great..."

When he opened his eyes to get a greater bearing of where he was, he found that the weight that was on his right arm was from the person on top of him's backpack, which had slung off his shoulder from the impact. He guessed he was one of those kind of people who carried their backpack on one shoulder. As it was, their position was extremely incriminating, with the lighter-haired male's completely on top of him, holding onto his shoulder's and shaking him. He was wearing a light blue shirt and what appeared to be green khakis, and....

Flight goggles?

"Thank #$^#in' god you woke up, #$^#, I thought I was in some real #$^# there..." He seemed to be babbling angrily, apparently upset at himself and trying to hide it. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, shifting the backpack back onto his back. He held out his hand, which was covered with a thick glove. "I'm Cid, sorry for #$^#in' you up there, didn't mean it."

"Vincent..." He struggled to sit upwards, still disoriented from what had happened. He finally was able to rub his head with his free hand and thankfully found no blood of any sort. He was relieved, he had feared his contact with the pavement would be more damaging. It was at this point that he heard the mocking laughter around him, and noted Cid beginning to blush angrily. He took the gloved hand awkwardly. "I'm Vincent."

He shook his hand furiously and let go just as quickly. "Well, great to meet you, Vin, I really got to #^#%in' go though, sorry 'bout this, see ya!" With that, the blonde was up on his feet and running furiously. Vincent related instantly with what he was doing as he stood, enduring the laughter as stoically as possible. He felt like getting away from the mockery himself.

He brushed back his black hair from his eyes and resumed his journey towards the looming building, hoping there wouldn't be any more unwanted surprises.

~~~

After several moments of confusion, the office finally told him where to go, as if they expected him to know exactly where he was supposed to be the minute he got off the bus. He just knew his room number and dorm, he didn't know where they actually WERE. However, they looked at him like he was an idiot when he tried to explain that, so he just gave up and followed their directions.

When he got to his room, he found that his roommate had yet to arrive. He breathed a sigh of relief. Rooms had always been a big thing at his house, and he was glad that it would be someone coming into his room, rather then the other way around.

He shrugged off his backpack finally and began unpacking his clothes, folding them neatly into the drawers provided, and then digging into his backpack. He filled all of the shelves with his books, as many as he could possible fit, and put up one of his few posters, a giant picture of Cthulu, a creature created by one of his favorite authors.

Not sure of what else to do, he sat on the bed, picked out one of his books, and waited.

He waited for a while until the door was slammed open, and someone walked in, quietly mumbling to themselves.

He was wearing a dark purple sweater with no sleeves, and what appeared to be large metal bracelets. He couldn't help but stare at his hair. It spiked to the extreme in a style he had never seen before. The young man was mumbling underneath his breath as he shoved his clothes into his drawer hurriedly and threw his backpack on the bed, shoving his hands into his black jeans. He finally turned and noticed Vincent, who was curled in one corner of his bed, quietly reading.

"Oh, hello." The young man's voice was very quiet and flatline. Vincent cocked his head slightly. "I guess you're my roommate."

Vincent nodded, not quite sure how else to respond. He silently put his bookmark back in his book.

"Right, I'm Cloud. You must be Vincent, right?" Cloud shrugged and began heading for the door. "I'm going out. Do you want to come?"

Vincent shook his head quietly and watched the spiky-haired young man leave. He thought carefully for a moment.

He seemed somewhat quiet, almost angrily so. He wasn't sure what he was trying to hide or prove, but Vincent decided it would be best not to cross him, even if he was bigger then him.

He sighed and went back to reading.

~~~

Cloud immediately covered his side of the room with pictures and posters, mostly of his friends and motorcycles, but didn't seem to speak to Vincent much. They both were the quiet type, so this didn't really bother him. 

The following days passed quietly as Vincent struggled to get his schedule under control and get everything sorted out. He went and noted which buildings he would have to go to on what day, and how long it would take for him to get there. Most of the time, however, he sat and read. When he slept, he had nightmares, which didn't surprise him. He had always had nightmares, ever since his parents had seperated.

When school finally started, his first class was at eight in the morning, which didn't really agree with him. Vincent was nocturnal. He woke, along with Cloud, reluctantly and headed to class anyway, bringing along his walkman. He fully planned to not be noticed, so he decided that quietly listening to "Billy and the Chocobo's" wasn't going to hurt anyone.

He sat down in the backrow, as he always did, and waited for everyone to arrive. He was early. He wasn't surprised.

Students filed in quietly, most of them exhausted and no doubt worn out from their first few nights of freedom. He turned his walkman on high power, so that he could hear nothing, and quietly sketched on his paper. Drawing was something that he generally kept to himself, as he believed that his own artwork was terrible, but it was something that he always did when he was bored.

He jumped when someone tapped him quietly and slid his headphones back, as he was accustomed to doing. He looked up, waiting for the stern look that told him to turn his music down, or keep the headphones off.  
The confident face of Cid looked down at him, smiling awkwardly. His eyes had large rings under him, and he looked slightly wobbly. No doubt Cid had also enjoyed his first nights of freedom as well. His voice was rougher then it had been when they first met. "Hey, what d'you know, same class."

Vincent blinked as he remembered Cid in an instant, then nodded silently. He could go weeks without ever saying a word. Cid laughed and then gestured to the empty seat next to Vincent. He always kept at least two empty seats next to him. He liked his space, and he didn't really think anyone would want him sitting next to them anyway. "Mind?"

Vincent shook his head, and Cid flopped down in his chair, leaning back and sighing. "#$^#, this class is too #$^#in' early..."

Vincent was planning on turning his headphones back on and going back to drawing when he could feel Cid's presence near his shoulder. He could smell the faint presence of cigarettes.

"Hey, what'cha drawin'?"

"Mm?" Vincent hadn't expected that question and leaned back slightly so he could study Cid's face, which was already close to the paper. He was planning on explaining how his drawings weren't good, but Cid cut him off.

"#$^#, Vin, this is some good #$^#. Where'd you learn to draw like this?"

Vincent didn't know what to say. He just stared incoherently for a few seconds.

"Wish I could #$^#in' draw." Cid sighed and leaned his head into his hands, his elbows on Vincent's desk. He noted that he was still wearing those gloves. "All I can #$^%in' do is write, an' not well I might add..."

Vincent finally found his voice. "You can write...?"

Cid smiled cockily at him. "So it talks! Sure, I guess. I never showed anyone 'cause I think I'm pretty bad, but #$^#, you're really good at this."

"You really think so?" Vincent's voice betrayed nothing of his inner confusion.

"#$^#in-A. This one's really cute, if you're into that kind of stuff." He pointed to one of Vincent's small chibi's in the corner.

Vincent, if he was shocked before, was doubly-shocked.

If anyone saw his art, they described it as gothic, dark, bloody, and depressed. Even when he felt good, even when he tried to make his drawings light and happy, to match with his rare good moods, everyone saw them as dark, ironically morbid. No one had ever told him his drawings were cute...he had tried to for that several times, but had never really accomplished it...or had he?

He was more confused then ever now.

"You're really good, Vin." Cid smiled at him, his sincerity hard to doubt. "How'd you learn?"

Vincent finally managed to speak again, shaking his head softly and lowering his eyes. "No...no, I'm not good, there are a lot of other people-"

"#$^# the other people." Cid crossed his arms and stared at him levelly. "You're #$^#in' good and that's that."

Vincent looked to one side, suddenly aware of his claw-arm. He knew that there were others in his class with stranger defects (he even saw one with a leopard tail) but he was extremely self-conscious about his own. He looked down at his left arm, making sure it was still completely covered. "I...thank you, I guess..."

"Y'probably don't remember my name." Cid cut him off before he could protest. "I'm Cid Highwind. I'm the clumsy #$^# who ran into you. Sorry 'bout that again..."

Vincent shook his head. "No, no, it's alright, really..."

"$^#%, wish I could draw like this..." Cid seemed to sigh slightly. "I'm not really good at anythin' tho'..."

"You said that you could write..."

"More like try." Cid shrugged and moved his shoulders off of Vincent's desk, leaning back in his own chair, hands behind his head. "Least you're good at somethin'..."

"Highwind, I'm sure-"

"Class!" The professor had arrived while Vincent had not been paying attention, and he immediately turned away from Cid, focusing his attention back on his paper. He found the pen he was holding in his flesh hand twitching, as if wanting to do something. Was he that thirsty for positive recognition that his muse had been rekindled just by a few kind words?

The class began, and it went on almost without further distraction, excepting a note passed to him by Cid, written in rough, scratchy strokes.

"Wanna read some of my stories? Where's your room?"

Vincent stared at it for a while, chancing a glance at Cid while he did so, finding the young man glancing ta him ever so often as well, as if wondering whether he had found the note at all.

He wrote down his room number on the note and passed it back. After all, what's the worst that could happen?

~~~

Most of Vincent's nights were spent flipping through channels with the sound way down, or reading while Cloud watched or worked. Tonight Cloud was out, so Vincent was laying on his bed, his arms spread out to his sides, staring at the ceiling. The more that he thought about it, the more he considered putting something up there that he could stare at at times like this.

There was nothing on TV to watch...

There was nothing that he felt like reading...

He felt himself breathe for a few moments, felt his spine curve away from the bed and meet it again, a curve that he was never able to fully get rid of comfortably when he layed down. He flexed his toes, streched slightly, but still felt no real compulsion to move.

He just felt like staring at something.

He wasn't sure when Cid was supposed to come, and perhaps that was why he felt so awkward. Was it because he didn't want to be doing something when Cid came? He had never done that before...

Then again, it had been a long time since someone had come to pay him a visit in friendship...

He wondered if they would be friends, but he felt somewhere inside him that he already knew the answer. Unlike a lot of people, Cid didn't trigger his inherent fear, his mistrust. He hadn't locked up completly in front of him, refusing to talk, and he hadn't reacted with anger, asking for him to go away. There was something disarming about him, but he wasn't sure what...

He finally did roll over, reaching out one of his thin arms to take the pad of paper lying near him. He took his pencil and sat up, leaning against the wall. He rested the paper against his knees and began sketching lightly, his pencil barely scraping the paper before darting back up and striking again. His style was odd, he knew that.

The figure that quietly and slowly materialized underneath his pencil was thin and dressed in black, his hair short and light. Vincent sighed and stared at it, not even completed, and tossed the pad off the side of the bed, turning onto his stomach and staring at the wall. He couldn't even draw people correctly...they always came out looking so morbid, so sad. He didn't understand why. He tried to capture the light and happiness that other people seemed to be able to access, but he could never get it completely...

However, Cid had said that he could see it...maybe he couldn't? Perhaps he was turning a blind eye to his own work.

He threw the pencil along with the pad of paper. He hated his drawings.

There was a thump on the door, then a cough and a series of lighter knocks. He pushed himself up and hopped onto the floor, going to the door, not sure of what to expect.

The shorter young man was dressed in ragged, torn clothing, with chains hanging from his pockets and his hair spiked up, still mainly held back by his goggles. He was smiling, a cigarette giving off a gentle curl of smoke. "Heya, Vin! How's it goin'?"

Vincent wasn't sure what to say. He was dressed differently then he had seen before...he hadn't expected it. "Hello..."

"Woah, Vin!" Cid pushed his way past him and closed the door, not waiting for Vincent to invite him inside. "You changed what you're wearin'!"

Vincent looked down. He had been wearing mostly black and dark colors before, along with a larger sweater. He had foregone that currently for a black sleeveless shirt and black jeans, these more ragged and torn then the ones he had been wearing before.

"Holy #$^$!" Cid's eyes widened as he jumped onto Vincent's bed, bouncing around for a while before laying on his stomach, staring at Vincent. "Didn't see your arm either!"

Before Vincent could turn away to hide the deformity, Cid's voice came to him. "#$^#, that's cool. How'd you get that?"

Vincent just gaped at him for a while, causing Cid to smirk in a confident way. "Heh, you're too easy to #$^# with, Vin. That claw thin' IS really cool tho'." Cid bounced backwards until his back was against the wall, giving Vincent enough room to sit down.

"You think so...?" Vincent's fingers brushed against the metal. "I don't like it..."

"Aw c'mon Vin, don't get like that." Cid was staring around the room, taking in everything at once. He noted the window and bounced off the bed to open it, tapping out some ashes as he went. "I know too many #$^#'s that act that way."

Vincent wasn't sure how to respond, so he layed back on his bed, staring at Cid as he breathed a cloud of smoke out the window. "You said you wanted to show me your stories...?"

"Aw #$^#..." Cid turned and rubbed the back of his head. "You really want t'see 'em that bad? They suck @#%..."

Vincent smirked softly. "I thought you didn't like it when people acted that way."

Cid walked back to where Vincent was lying, sitting on the bed so that his back came in contact with Vincent's side as he began typing at the computer nearby. "Blah blah blah, smart@$%. Give me a sec', I have to find 'em..."

Cid was a remarkably fast typer, which somewhat surprised Vincent. He hadn't taken him for the type at first. He personally didn't care for computers, but Cid used it as if he had been born with the knowledge.

Cid put a hand in his spiked hair, then looked back and forth irritably. "Man, you really want t'read 'em that bad? #$^@, I should've put that other one up..."

Vincent pushed Cid out of the way slightly and leaned in front of the computer so he could read the text. Cid began walking around in circles, then tapping his foot repeatedly. He finally just gave up and threw his hands upwards.

"#$^#, I can't stand here, #$^#, I'll be back soon." He then left the room, his feet shuffling.

Vincent understood the kind of anxiety that surrounded having to be present while others evaluated your work and didn't protest when Cid began to wander around the hall. He nudged the door shut with his foot and lay on his stomach, focusing his eyes to read the off-white text on black.

Before he knew it, an hour had gone by. Cid had created his own world, a world that focused completely on the sky, one where everyone was able to fly. The freedom was staggering, but although such an environment seemed so light, the story focused around one whose wings had been clipped, and could never fly. It was dark, involved, and complicated, and Vincent could place himself in the main characters shoes more easily then he thought he would.

He jumped when Cid tapped his shoulder. He looked even more awkward then before and shrugged, laughing nervously. "Stupid, huh? I make up this #$^#in' crazy #$^# before I sleep, that's why it doesn't make any god#$^# sense..."

He turned away and rubbed the back of his head, his blond spikes making a slight rustling noise. "I write 'bout real #$^#in' stupid stuff..."

Vincent turned to face him, staring at him very seriously. "This is one of the best things I've read, Highwind. I am not lying to you."  
Cid turned and looked at him, sitting on the bed next to him, looking down. "Y'think so...?"

Vincent nodded.

Cid smiled and laughed slightly. "Highwind?"

Vincent scratched his head, his hair coming free to fall in front of his eyes. "It's a habit I have, I was taught when I was little to refer to everyone by their last name..."

"Serious?" Cid pulled himself up on the bed and crawled over Vincent, setting himself up in Vincent's favorite corner, folding his knees up and putting his arms across them casually. Not prepared for the contact, Vincent stared at him for a moment, but didn't say anything, only getting up himself and going to sit next to Cid near the corner. "That's pretty weird..."

"Yeah..." Vincent sighed and folded his own knees near his chest. "I've been weird my whole life. Even more so after my parents separated..."

"You too?" Cid responded automatically. This caused an awkward pause where the two stared at eachother. They fidgeted, not sure of what to say until Cid finally broke the silence. "I mean...#$^#, it was over me, really...'m a #$^#in' brat, if y'can't tell." Cid smirked to himself and gestured to his shredded clothing. "I really #$^#ed with 'em both tho', but I didn't think it'd do anythin'...I mean, every kid does that, right?..."

He looked down. "I guess they couldn't handle me, so they jus' said '#$$@ it' an' left. M'fault, really, but..." Cid tried to shrug carelessly, but Vincent could tell this was something that bothered him a lot. "Doesn't really matter t'me anyway, I didn't need 'em..."

Cid was tracing circles on the bedspread. Vincent sighed softly. "I don't know why mine decided to divorce. It seemed so...random to me. They seemed so happy, but perhaps I was just being unobservant...I don't know. They split and my mother got possession of me...that was a long time ago..."

"I got m'#$%#in' #$^# of an uncle. He had a stick up the #$%, that's for sure." Cid smiled slightly. "Heh...'s kind of funny when you think about it..."

"What do you mean..." Vincent let one leg slide free, staring at the fabric of his jeans as it bunched up around his knees. Cid moved out of the corner so he was facing Vincent more, kneeling instead of curling up. 

"I mean, jus' th' fact that both our families #$%#ed us. That kind of thin'."

"They..." Vincent was about to protest when he realized that he really agreed. He shrugged. "I suppose you're right..."

"Hey Vin, if you don't mind me askin'..." Cid moved to the edge of the bed and leaned over the edge, feeling around underneath. He came up with a piece of paper and a pen, putting them in Vincent's lap before keeling back holding his head. "#$^#in' dizzy spells, I #$^#in' hate those mother#$%#in' #$^#-suckin' sons of-"

Vincent cut him off before he could continue his swearing rant, taking the utensils with his hands quietly. "Dizzy spells...?"

"Yeah, the $%@%ers." Cid growled to himself. "Those #$%#in' doc's said it wasn't a 'serious' #$%#in' problem..." He paused as if thinking about something. "#$^#er's think that pills solve every #$%#in' problem on the god#$%# planet, stupid..."

Vincent pulled his legs back up and took a book of his shelf for backing, quietly speaking as he did so. "They gave you pills?"  
"Yeah, t'#$^#in' 'control' m'mood swings an' th' dizzy spells, altho' they don't do jack #$^#. I still think it was m'parent's way of gettin' back at me, #$^#ers..."

"Mood swings...?"

Cid laughed suddenly, startling Vincent slightly. "You haven't #$^#in' noticed yet, Vin? I can't hold a mood for more then two seconds at most...#$^#, they say I got somethin' wron' in my head that makes it hard for me to concentrate, but they're full of #$^#."

Vincent wasn't sure how to respond. "They thought you had a...learning disorder...?"

"@#%@ yeah..." Cid leaned back on the bed, his head on the pillow, so he could look up and see Vincent against the wall. "I jus' #$#^in' hated school, that's all. #$^#ers. Hate 'em all."

Vincent decided to change the topic, not sure of what to say. "Why did you bring me this...?"

"Oh, right." Cid snapped his fingers. "I was wonderin' if you could draw..." Cid's speech tapered off slightly, as if he wasn't sure how to phrase what he wanted to ask. Vincent smiled slightly.

"Draw your characters for you?"

Cid smiled back at him. "Right. You got th' perfect #$^#in' style for 'em, jus' like how I see 'em."

"Really?" Vincent began sketching, his movements quick and light. "You picture them that way...?"

"Sure as @%$%. That's why I saw what you was drawin' and I was like 'that guy, he's got some major #$^#in' talent, he can make 'em real for you' and I asked you what you were drawin' an' stuff."

"I don't have any talent..." Vincent brushed some eraser fragments away. "I just draw for fun..."

Cid made a derisive noise. "Whatthe#$^#in'ever, Vin. Thanks for doin' this for me, tho'."

"It's no problem at all." Vincent began to picture what he was drawing in his head, the form coming out on the paper slowly in all the "wrong" ways. "You are a great writer."

Cid stumbled over his words for a moment before deciding on what to say. "@$^@, everyone before thought I was 'disturbed' an' all that #$^# 'cause I didn't want to live in their little #$%#ed world, stupid #$^#ers. I didn't really show 'em t'anyone, 'cause no one really understands. They thought I was a 'freak' or whatever..." Cid was trying to sound angry, but Vincent could hear tones of sadness underneath his voice. "Stupid #$%#s wouldn't know a story if it bit them in the #$%..."

Cid propped himself up on his elbows and leaned in closer to Vincent, looking at the piece of paper excitedly. "How's it goin'?"  
"Here, see?" Vincent turned the paper so he could see it. "I'm not done yet, but how's that?"

"Great, great, $@$@in' perfect!" Cid seemed ecstatic. "This makes everythin' so much more real, this is #$%#in' awesome..."

"Do you want to live in your world...?" Vincent turned the paper back towards himself and began to put in details. "It was different...but it had it's problems as well..."

Cid shrugged. "It's not that I'd want t'LIVE there, really...I jus' think it'd be a neat place if it really was there. I like the place a lot, even tho' it's really #$^#ed in some ways..."

"It does seem like a nice place, despite the setbacks you point out in the story." Vincent worked quietly. "Every place has it's setbacks..."

Cid smiled and leaned back against the wall. "#$^#, y'know it's great t'be able t'talk t'someone who isn't a #$^#in' moron?"

Vincent smiled at that. "I must say likewise."

"Y'don't think I'm stupid 'cause I can't stay focused long, do you?" Cid turned onto his stomach and looked up at Vin, wincing slightly as a minor dizziness overtook him. "A lot of people do, I mean a #$^#in' ton..."

Vincent shook his head slowly and brushed his hair behind his ear. "No, that never occured to me."

Cid put his arms on the pillow and rested his chin on his hands. "This's great, #$^#in' great, finally got someone who doesn't think I'm a #$^#in' moron..."

Vincent brushed off his drawing and handed the paper to the blonde young man. "Here. Again, I must say likewise."

Cid took the paper carefully and sat up, smiling broadly. "Can I really keep this?"

Vincent nodded. 

"Alright!" Cid hopped off the bed, leaning against a post for a second then coming back to his center. Vincent studied his face during his movement and noticed slight twitches in his face. He was blocking out all signs of showing pain...

"Are you going?"

Vincent's question cause another awkward silence, where Cid toyed with the top of the paper and Vincent fidgeted. Cid finally turned back towards him.

"Do you want me to? I mean, if you do, I will, I mean...I jus' thought y'know, you'd want me out of the room or somethin', 'cause..."  
Vincent shook his head and leaned back. Cid took the invitation and crawled back onto the bed, the paper carefully placed on the desk. He sat next to Vincent, and the dark-haired young man reached over and picked up the remote for the TV.

"Hey Vin, how old are you?" Cid looked at him as the TV flickered on. Vincent blinked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm always #$#@in' younger then everyone around me, it's a big pain in the #$%." The way that Cid pronounced the obscenity caused Vincent to laugh slightly. "So I was just curious."

"I'll be nineteen this October..."

Cid muttered. "#$%@, not again. $^@# you, you old man."

Vincent laughed out loud at that. Cid smirked and continued. "Yeah, I've seen you an' your old man buddies all laughin' behind my back, you sick old #$^#s, I'm onto you! I'll get you yet! 'Cause if the heat doesn't kill th' old people, I wiiiiiilllll."

"Stop, stop!" Vincent wasn't used to laughing and he tried to keep his voice under control. "You're terrible."

Cid leaned back and stole the remote from Vincent efficiently. "That's right, I'm lookin' for trouble with a capital Cid Highwind, buddy!"

Vincent laughed again, and Cid began flipping through channels.

The hours went by quickly and easily, the two commenting and laughing at things that came on, making them funny if they weren't originally. Vincent felt more at ease then he ever had before and even made comments that he normally never would have made.

It was only the sound of the key in the lock that reminded them that Vincent wasn't the only inhabitant of the room.

"Oh, my roommates back..."

"#$^#. That ruins all our fun." Cid gave Vincent back the remote. "I should probably go anyway."

"Alright..." Vincent wasn't sure how to feel. "You should come by again sometime, it was fun..."

Cid nodded and smiled, hopping off the bed just in time to collide with Cloud as he was entering.

"Woah, sorry buddy." Cid slid past him and was gone within a moment. Cloud watched him go, rubbing where they had collided with an odd expression on his face.

"Who was that...?"

Vincent paused for a moment, placing the remote back on the desk, where he noticed that Cid had left his picture. "A...a friend."

"Right." Cloud walked across the room and picked up his bag, turning around again to head out. "I'm going out again."

Cloud had learned, even in such a short time, that asking Vincent to come with him was useless. Vincent watched Cloud turn and go, the door clicking behind him.

He slid the piece of paper off the desk and looked at it, thinking about Cid's reaction to his scribbles. His drawings really did seem to make him happy...

He drew a few more of the characters that showed up in the story around the edges of the main one in the center, then a small attempt at a chibi version of himself in the corner. As usual, it looked far too depressing, and he sighed. He slid off the bed and pulled on a black jacket, opening the door. He wasn't sure where Cid's room was, but considering he had nothing better to do tonight, he was going to find it to give him his drawing.

~~~

It took quite a bit of work to find out where his room was. He asked information and even resorted to asking his classmates if they knew where he was. As it turned out, Cid lived about two dorms away, a fair walking distance. Vincent didn't mind particularly and felt more relieved after he knew where he was going.

He was holding the paper in one hand, feeling the slight breeze rustle it against his metal claws. It was still late summer, and the air was warm, the night clear. It was a nice night for a walk, so Vincent enjoyed the physical activity.

He entered the dorm and headed up the three flights of stairs that were required to find his room. Noting the noises from downstairs and the random shouts he heard, this dorm was far more active then his own.

Cid's room should be somewhere near the center... 


	2. The Consequences of being Drunk

He walked down the hall, staying close to the wall, studying the doors as he walked along. Most of them blended in with eachother, and it was difficult for him to distinguish one from another. Some doors were open, and the inhabitants inside all seemed to be having a good time.

He finally spotted a door that had Cid's name written at the top, along with a small pair of wings coming out of the capital letters of his name. The rest of the door was completely taken over by his roommate, pictures and phrases and words dominating the entire thing.  
Vincent steeled himself and walked forward, knocking on the door softly. He waited while there were some noises from inside and finally the door opened, the blaring of the television very clear. The person standing in it wasn't Cid, however. This young man had bright red hair, held back with a different kind of goggles then Cid's, and deep scars underneath his eyes.

"What d'you want?"

Vincent paused, not sure how to react, unconsciously moving his arm behind his back, even though it wasn't clearly visible to begin with. "Um...I'm looking for Highwind..."

The red-haired male made a derisive noise and turned around. "Hey, someone's here for you."

"Really?" There was a scrambling from inside and Cid replaced the previous answerer. He was still dressed the same, although he looked more tired then he had before. The shock on his face was clear. "Vin? What the @#%$?"

Vincent felt even more awkward now then he had before. He took the paper with his flesh hand and held it out. "I...I came to give you this...you left it in my room..."

Cid took the paper slowly, and the happiness that flashed across his face when he saw what it was was painfully clear. "Alright! Can't #$^#in' believe I forgot this..."

The TV behind him turned up a few notches and Cid looked very awkward as he stepped out of the room and closed the door. "Look, Vin, I don't want to be a selfish #$#% but...can we go back t'your room?"

"Why?" Vincent's voice was quite and nervousness he was feeling before had lessened somewhat with the sound Cid's familiar voice. Cid rubbed the back of his head and looked awkward again.

"Just 'cause...c'mon, let's go, the guys here are #$^#s anyway..." Cid began walking, and Vincent followed him quietly.

"Alright...Cloud left anyway, so it's alright..." Vincent looked back at the room. Cid stopped abruptly and turned.

"Oh @$@%, almost forgot!" He headed back to his room, pulling out his key from his pants and opening the door.

Cid darted in and out again amazingly quickly, something shoved into his pocket. He closed the door and returned to Vincent. 

They resumed walking. Cid apparently felt uncomfortable about the silence and began talking. "So Cloud's the name of your roommate?"

"Yes..." Vincent nodded slightly, again staying close to the wall. Cid walked directly down the center of the hallway, his hands in his pockets, slouching terribly. "He's gone a lot of the time..."

"Lucky." Cid remarked offhandedly. "Know when he's comin' back?"

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know what he does, but he usually doesn't come back until I'm asleep...we have classes tomorrow, so he has to be back at some point..."

"Right, when's your class?" They began walking down the stairs.

"...Sometime in the midday, really...I think after twelve..."

"Great, so's mine!" Cid smiled brightly. "Maybe we have the same class!"

"What's yours...?" Vincent didn't want to volunteer information first, it wasn't something that agreed with him. Cid looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

"I forget right now, but I got my schedule in my pocket somewhere, it's no big deal." He smiled again. "Keep everythin' in these pockets, I love these things."

Vincent smiled gently as they walked outside. "Yes, I can tell."

Cid paused and held his foot out, staring at the ragged remains of the bottoms of his pants and laughed. "Yeah, I really beat the #$^# out of stuff like this. Used to drive my parents #$^#in' nuts."

"I could guess." Vincent continued walking, watching as Cid sped up slightly to walk alongside him. "Whenever my clothing got in bad shape, they threw it out or had it repaired...so I never really had clothing with rips in it like yours..."

Cid laughed quietly for a few seconds, then smiled. "Most of it isn't jus' me wearin' it anyway, I rip 'em up on purpose. I like doin' stuff like that, it's weird."

Cid paused awkwardly after what he said, apparently debating whether or not he should have said that. Vincent nodded, not wanting to frighten him away. "Right, I know what you mean...that kind of desire to destroy something..."

Vincent had never admitted to anyone that he felt that way and paused in much the same way that Cid had, feeling embarassed. When he looked back at him, Cid was staring at him in wonder. "#$^#, I didn't know other people wanted t'do that. I thought it was jus' another reason I was #^#$ed up."

"You know..." Vincent turned as they approached his dorm. "You look down on yourself a surprising amount..."

"Yeah, I know. @$@# if I tell anyone tho'." Cid opened the door and walked into the dorm, waiting for Vincent to follow. "Enough people #$%#in' angst without me addin' to it."

"Is that why you never..." Vincent thought about what he was going to say, then decided against it. Cid seemed to be able to tell.

"What?"

"...you know that I don't think to highly of myself..." Vincent touched his metal arm through the cloth softly. "That's why I don't talk to people, but you seem really open to me...is it that...you hide how you feel...?"

Cid paused for a moment, staring at Vincent with various expressions, then shrugged carelessly, laughing in a way that Vincent could tell was covering how he felt. "#$^#, everyone does, Vin. I'm not the only one."

Vincent could tell that he was making Cid uncomfortable and decided to change the subject as he unlocked his door. "...Who's your roommate?"

"Ah, his name's Reno. Real #%#^, that one." Cid crawled back onto Vincent's bed and moved instantly into the corner. "Ain't got any sense of personal space."

"What do you mean?" Vincent sat next to Cid in the corner, taking the remote with him.

"He throws his stuff all over th' room, it's a #$^$in' pain." Cid's response seemed almost automatic. Vincent turned on the television, somewhat bothered by how he kept catching glimpses of how Cid really felt about things, then getting thrown off course. Cid reached into his pocket.

"What did you bring with you, anyway...?"

"I managed to get someone to get me some @#$%in' liquor..." Cid pulled a bottle from one of his seemingly bottomless pockets. "#$^#in' cost me tons, tho', but..." he shrugged. "I can't really do anything about it."

Vincent nodded. He could sense by how sensitive Cid was about his smoking, how he had gone to the window and extinguished his cigarette shortly after and how he wasn't smoking now, that he was aware of how his addictions could hurt or annoy other people. He must have trusted Vincent greatly to want to drink in front of him...Cid didn't seem to talk about his addictions at all.

Vincent changed the channel. "I understand."

Cid smirked and uncapped the bottle. "I thought you would."

Vincent changed the channel again as Cid took a drink from the bottle. He paused before speaking again. "Should warn you tho', I saw some pretty stupid #$^# when I'm drunk, an' do even stupider #$%#."

"It's alright." Vincent wasn't sure of what else to say. He couldn't very well stop him, and he didn't want to push him away. Cid was trusting him here, and he didn't want to break that trust. He could tell by how desperatly Cid seemed to be hanging around him that having a friend like him was something that he wasn't used to. "I don't mind."

"Right." Cid raised the bottle to his lips again, gently taking the remote from Vincent's hands instead of forcefully as he had done before. "Thanks."

"Your welcome." was the only response that Vincent could think of.  
The night went by as quickly as it had before. Cid was quiet at first, but after a while he began to talk, and as he did he didn't stop. He talked about anything that seemed to cross his mind while he watched the TV, and as the night wore on he changed channels faster and faster. He also flicked off the light at one point, and told Vincent it was because he didn't want him to see how much he had drunk. Vincent assumed it was because he thought that he would tell him to stop, but as it was Vincent was just sitting and listening, something that he was used to doing and had gotten very good at.

Cid rambled on and on about anything he saw on the TV that captured his attention or bothered him. He talked about the flat characters he saw in shows, how he would change the plot to do this or that, how he wanted a certain thing he saw in a commercial and how other commercials really bothered him, and how sometimes changing channels was soothing in itself, even if he liked the show. He felt like he had to constantly be changing channels to make sure that he wasn't missing something. The more that he talked, the more that he began to talk about himself and how he thought without hiding behind metaphors or TV shows. Vincent listened as Cid talked about how he felt alone a lot of the time, about how he felt like he could never fit in with anyone else, about he felt like his universe was trite and stupid, or that he could never really write for a living. He talked about how he wanted to fly, to just fly away from everything, and just give up on the world itself sometimes, because it seemed to hate him so much. Through all of this, Vincent stayed quiet and listened. Through all of it Cid began to lean on him rather heavily, his hand not even in the air anymore as he changed channels, his voice listing.

"Y'prolly hate me now, don't you, Vin...?" Cid's voice was soft as he leaned his head against his shoulder. "I'm such a stupid #$^# when I drink...'s a bad habit..."

"I don't hate you, Highwind." It took some effort to make his throat work again, and Vincent wondered just how long it had been since he had spoken. "You haven't done anything wrong at all."

"#$^# I haven't..." Cid gestured at to the obviously empty bottle by his side. "I'm #$^#in' smashed..."

Vincent wasn't sure of what else to do and, seeing that the blonde looked somewhat shaken, he rubbed his back softly. "There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing that I can see, anyway."

Cid paused for a minute and put the remote down quietly. He then turned and hugged Vincent fiercely, hiding his face in his chest. Vincent stared at him in surprise, not sure of how to respond.

"'M scared, Vin...'m #$^#in' scared an' too god#$^# #$^#in' lonely..."

Vincent rubbed his back gently again, not sure of how else to react. "It's alright, Highwind. I'll be here for you, if you want me to be."

Cid seemed to have drifted off into sleep, his tight hold loosening as he didn't respond. Vincent took the remote from where Cid had left it and turned the volume down on the TV, changing the channel again. He watched a sitcom without laughing, waiting for Cid to wake up or say something. Eventually he became concerned and shook his shoulder gently.

"Highwind, it's getting late...don't you want to go back to your room...?"

Cid mumbled sleepily. "Don' wan'a...'e's mean t'me...wan' stay here..."

Vincent's mind instantly told him in several dozen ways how this would be a bad idea. However, he didn't listen. "Alright, if that's what you want. You can stay with me."

Cid mumbled something unintelligible and seemed to drift off again. Vincent changed the channel again, then looked at the empty bottle, listing to one side. He picked it up with one hand and put behind some of his books, where he could get rid of it later. Cid jerked sharply at his movement and clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly.

"What are y'doin', are y'movin', what the #$%#...what are y'doin..."

"Shh." Vincent moved his arm back to where it had been before, which calmed him down a bit. "I'm not going anywhere, I was just moving the bottle, that's all..."

"#$^#, 'm sorry, #$#^, 'm a #$^#in' #$^#%@, never should'a done this t'you..." Cid was mumbling to himself now, repeating certain words. It was reminscient of how he rambled while watching the television. Vincent put his hand back on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Highwind, nothing's wrong. It's fine."

Cid stopped mumbling slowly and stopped talking entirely, apparently going back to sleep. Vincent leaned back against the wall, wondering what he was going to do. He didn't want to leave Cid alone or make him go back to his room if he didn't really want to, but he couldn't just let him stay in his room...

Could he...?

Vincent gently shook Cid awake again. "Highwind, I'm going to go change, alright? I'll be back soon."

Cid clutched his shirt tightly. "Don' go, don' go, don' go..."

Vincent gently detached his hands from his shirt. "It's alright, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be a few feet away and I'll come back, alright? Nothing is going to happen."

Cid didn't replace his hands, but he curled up tightly instead, not saying anything. Vincent moved off the bed and walked to the dresser, picking out his sleeping clothes. His mind was screaming at him to stop, to tell him to go away, to do SOMEthing that didn't involve the blond staying, but he didn't listen. He changed clothes quietly and returned to the bed, finding that Cid had gravitated to the corner and was still curled up tightly. He moved the covers, causing him to start and roll towards him.

"Are you alright?" Vincent pulled the sheets from underneath him, causing Cid to move in confusion, not sure of what was going on. "See, I'm back, nothing happened."

As soon as Vincent had settled, Cid had immediately replaced himself, holding onto Vincent tightly and desperatly. "#$%#, I was #$^#in' scared y'wouldn't come back at all, #$^# Vin, jesus..."

"It's alright, see? I didn't go anywhere." Vincent patted his head, trying to think of a way to calm him down. "I'm fine."

"#$#@in' scared t'death..." Cid mumbled, holding onto him more tightly then ever. The warmth that Cid was generating was considerable, and Vincent could feel it through his clothes very easily. Vincent pulled the blankets over both of them.

"Just go to sleep, Highwind. Everything will be fine, I promise."

"'Kay..." Cid's voice was very soft. "If y'say so..."

~~~

Vincent woke to the rays of sunlight warming his face. Still feeling tired, he threw his left arm over his eyes, ignoring the shock of metal, and tried to turn away, only to find something blocking him. Mildly confused, he moved his arm and looked down at his chest, finding a bed of soft blonde spikes. It only took a moment for the entire evening to come rushing back to him. He pushed himself up with his free arm, holding Cid down gently so as not to disturb him. He leaned against the wall and watched Cid breathe quietly, still clinging to him tightly. He wondered for a moment how he must feel. Did he feel sick? Was he alright...?

Would he regret his actions...?

"You know, the next time you want to have people stay in the room, could you please tell me in advance?"

Vincent turned his head sharply to see Cloud staring at him, his arms crossed and an indecipherable look on his face. Shock kept him from saying anything, so Cloud simply turned and picked up his bag from the floor, opening the door and leaving without a word.

Vincent wasn't quite aware of what had just happened for a while, and the true meaning of what had happened finally hit him, causing him to sigh deeply and put a free hand to his head. Cid stirred slightly and looked up at him, looking confused.

"What the #$^#...?"

"I'm afraid we're in for a bit of trouble, Highwind..." Vincent's voice was soft.

"How the #$%# did I..." Cid looked around, then withdrew his arms sharply from around Vincent's middle, backing against a wall. "Oh #$^$! I'm sorry, jesus @#%$in' christ..."

"No, no, it's alright, it's okay." Vincent tried to placate Cid, who was holding his head in what seemed to be pain. "Are you alright?"

Cid made a pained noise. "#$^#, my head hurts..."

Vincent got out of bed and moved across the room, shuttin the blinds. On the way back he chanced a look at the desk clock and found they had only a few minutes before their class began. Not wanting to panic Cid, he moved to his dresser and began to pick out what he would wear for the day.

"#@$^, #$^@, #$^@..." Cid dragged himself out from under the blankets, holding his head in both hands. "What did I do, Vin? I don't remember anythin', #^#@, tell me I didn't do anythin' stupid..."

Vincent sighed slightly, realizing that most of last night would only belong to him. He quietly gestured for Cid to turn away, which he did quietly, while he changed into a black t-shirt and a different pair of black jeans.

"You didn't do anything, Highwind...you talked a lot, and you fell asleep. That's all." Vincent changed quickly and walked back to where Cid was staring fixedly at the wall.

"Did I say some stupid #$^%? I know I must've, #$^#, I'm sorry..."

"No, it's alright. You didn't say anything bad at all." Vincent sat on the chair near his desk. "Nothing happened."

"#$^@...I #^$#in' curled up to you, what about that?" Cid looked at Vincent, and he looked extremely pained. Vincent was surprised to the extent which Cid seemed to be reacting to what had happened. "#$^#, I hate it when I do this, I #$^#in' hate this..."

"Highwind, would I have let you if it bothered me? It's okay. But at the moment, there's a more pressing concern..."

"What?"

"We still have to go to class."

Cid stared at him for a few seconds, then clenched his fists. "#$^#! #$^#, I can't go like this, #$^#..."

Cid looked down at his rumpled and stained clothes. "#$^#..."

"Here, you can borrow some of mine if you want, I should have some that will fit you..." Vincent headed back to his dresser. "You can give them back later, we don't have time to go back to your room..."

"What about my bag?" Cid slid onto the floor, holding his head. "#$^#, my head hurts..."

"You can borrow some of my paper, it's nothing." Vincent pulled out a dark grey shirt and yet another pair of black jeans. He turned to Cid, holding them out. "Sorry, these are the lightest things I have..."

"#$^@..." Cid took them and headed towards a corner of the room. Vincent turned and faced a wall, trying to catch Cid's angry mumbling.

"It'll be okay, Highwind. Nothing happened, no harm done."

"@#$@ Vin, I hate it when I do this to people..." Cid tapped Vincent's shoulder, causing him to jump. The clothes seemed to list slightly off Cid's smaller frame, but other then that they seemed to fit. Cid looked around the room, then finally brushed his hands over his head rapidly, causing the spikes to flatten and flare out in a somewhat more tame way. "I #$^#in' hate bein' so #$^#in' clingy...y'wouldn't believe how many times it's #^#%ed me over..."

"Look, it's alright." Vincent put his hands on Cid's shoulders. "Everyone has to cling to someone sometime. There's nothing wrong with that."

Cid held out a piece of paper to Vincent, who took it quietly. He scanned it, then handed it back to him. "And I guess we do have the same class. I think we'll be able to make it in time."

Vincent opened the door, letting Cid walk out first, and let it click behind him. When he turned, Cid was glaring at someone in the hallway who was staring at him.

"What the #$^# you lookin' at?"

The other person walked away, not saying anything, and Cid made an angry noise. He began walking, Vincent following along behind him.  
They walked in silence for a while, then Vincent leaned closer to Cid. "Have you noticed something, Highwind?"

"What?" Cid seemed extremely irritable with everyone.

"Everyone is staring at us..."

"That's #$^#in' great for them, then." Cid flipped off one of those that Vincent was talking about, causing them to turn away quickly. "#$^#in' nosy @#$%@s."

"I just find it strange..." Vincent brushed back his hair, wishing he had brought his headband with him. His hair just refused to be controlled otherwise.

They made it to class only a few minutes late, but the professor had already begun talking. Vincent had always been hesitant to enter classes that had already begun, but Cid seemed to have no such reservations. He opened the door and walked right in as if nothing seemed to bother him, Vincent trailing behind him.

There was an palpable pause as the two made their way to two empty seats near the back of the room. All eyes seemed to be on the two as they sat down, Cid flopping in his chair almost angrily and Vincent putting down his bag softly. The professor coughed and looked at the two of them.

"And you are...?"

"Vincent Valentine."

"Cid Highwind." Cid added something under his breath that Vincent couldn't catch, but could guess wasn't flattering.

"Well...I'll excuse your tardiness today, but I don't want this to be repeated."

The two nodded, Cid's arms crossed. 

"For those who missed it..." He looked at the two in the back. "My name is Professor Hojo."

Cid and Vincent didn't react. After a short pause, the professor resumed speaking, and class continued on.

It was only a few minutes in before Cid leaned close to Vincent and whispered to him. "#$^#, my head hurts like a #$^#in' #$^@#. #$^@in' hangover."

Vincent kept his eyes on his paper at all times, even when others were speaking to him, and he was sketching something lightly. He hadn't had much time to think of what to draw or how, so the sketch at the moment could become anything. The concern in his whispered response was evident. "I'm not sure what to do...we should probably go get something for you to eat after this...that would help, wouldn't it...?"

"I guess...but my stomach's #$^#in' beatin' the #$^# out've me right now."

Vincent chanced a glance upwards to see if anyone was noticing their conversation. "Highwind, they're staring at us again."

Cid made an angry noise under his breath. "#$^#ers."

"It's probably because you're dressed like me."

Cid started slightly, then looked at himself. "Woah, forgot about that."

Vincent smiled slightly, his sketch taking form as two people sleeping together. "It's probably nothing."

"Well, @$%@ this class." Cid rested his arms on the table, his head soon following suit. "I'm goin' to get some sleep to get my head to #$^#in' shut up. Tell me if I miss anythin' important."

"Alright." Vincent responded quietly, working on darkening the outlines of his sketch. It wasn't anyone that he knew, but the position was very familiar. He smiled slightly as the drone of Prof. Hojo seemed very far away. Thinking back to last night, to Cid's frightened voice talking about how lonely he was, he realized that he had finally found a true friend. That was something that was going to take some getting used to.

"Cid!"

Vincent started sharply as he heard the blonde's name called and nudged him. Cid jerked upwards in surprise, looking back and forth in confusion.

"Cid, are you paying attention?"

"#$^# yeah." Cid responded without thinking, then put a hand to his head in what seemed to be pain. There seemed to be a slight giggle from the rest of the class. Vincent tried to remember what Hojo had been talking about before he had been startled out of his drawing reverie. He could only remember vague concepts, but he was sure he could fill in the rest.

"Very nicely put." Hojo's sarcasm was clear. "So tell me, what do you think about the ninth treatise on love?"

Vincent thought hard as Cid scratched his head, trying to stall for time. "#$^#, um..."

"Highwind, it's shallow." Vincent tried to whisper without looking as if he was. "Shallow and contrived."

Cid seemed to hear him, but didn't show it. "It was shallow. Shallow and contrived."

"So then tell me, Cid, what is your idea of love?"

Everyone stared at him now, apparently interested in his answer. Cid paused again, scratching his head.

"Well...I guess love is acceptance, really. No matter what #^#@ the other person does, or who they are, or any of that #$^#...I think it's really just acceptin' who they are. I think that's really love..."

Cid had turned his eyes down, not sure of how else to act. Vincent felt like the eyes were boring holes in him, they were staring so hard.

"So, Cid, you think love is love, no matter what?"

The more answers were demanded of him, the less inclined Cid was to answer them. Vincent didn't envy the headache he must have at the moment. Cid kept his eyes down, playing with some of the remaining spikes as he tried to think of something to say.

"@#$%, I guess so...I don't know..."

Prof. Hojo stared at him, as if considering asking him another question, then turned back to the board, underlining something he had written down there. He continued speaking, and Cid slouched down in his chair holding his head. Vincent turned to him in concern.

"Are you alright...?"

"#$^#, can't deal with this right now, Vin, what a pain in the #$^..." Cid slumped back down over his desk, his head back on his arms. "#$^#..."

Vincent patted his back softly. "Don't worry about it, it'll be alright."

"Vincent!"

Vincent turned to the front silently, his hand automatically returning to his paper. He inclined his head slightly to show that he had heard him, and Hojo seemed to imitate him in a mocking way. "Why don't you come up here?"

Vincent didn't trust this, but he put his pencil down. He sighed as he remembered the other times he had been asked up to the front by teachers and resigned himself to the upcoming humiliation. He touched Cid's arm before he went in a silent farewell, not sure if he was awake to hear what was happening, and headed up.

He stood in front of the class, hiding his arm behind his back as he usually did. Prof. Hojo stared at him critically, and Vincent waited for the question that would be turned against him if he answered truthfully.

"Tell me, Vincent..." Hojo crossed his arms. "Do you agree with nine's theory that love transpasses all physical boundaries?"

Vincent moved his other arm behind his back, taking hold of his metallic arm, feeling extremely awkward. "I suppose, although I don't believe it really applies in nine's case-"

Prof. Hojo cut him off. "Do you believe, Vincent, that love is a worthwhile investment of one's time?"

Vincent felt more and more awkward as he could feel people staring at him. He hated people staring at him. "I don't think you can choose who you love or when you love...therefore, it's pointless to argue that it's not a good investment of your time because it's not something you control..."

"So love is beyond control?"

Vincent wasn't sure if he even believed what he was saying, faced with the cold tone in Hojo's voice and the continued staring of the other students. He sighed slightly. "I believe so, yes..."

"And love is beyond physical limits or boundaries?"

Vincent rubbed his flesh arm with his metal one, feeling the edges of his claws scrape across his skin. "I believe so, yes..."

"Do you believe that people will even love a monster?"

Vincent paused for a while, his eyes turned to the ground. He fidgeted slightly, his hair drifting over his shoulder.

"As previously stated, physical limitations have no bearing..."

Hojo crossed his arms and seemed to look at the class. Vincent couldn't even bear to look at his face, it seemed so superior and cold. "So, say, even if someone had some kind of...physical deformity..."

Vincent's claw seemed to contract against his will against his arm, and he inhaled sharply as he knew he broke skin unintentionally.

"Someone could still love them...?" Prof. Hojo turned towards him, a sadistic smirk on his face. "Someone could still love them, despite their deformity and perhaps their very being...?"

Vincent tried to make his claw unclench, but it was a reflex that refused to let go under the tension he was in. He looked upwards slightly and caught Cid's eyes from the back. He was watching. He could sense the fury emanating from his gaze, the frustration. Prof. Hojo took this in with some quiet movements of his eyes and smirked again.

"Perhaps even if they were...say...the same sex...? Would love still be possible?"

Vincent's claw clenched tighter against his arm. He knew he was being led on, he knew there was no right way to answer this question. He lowered his eyes back to the ground, hearing the rest of the class talking amongst themselves. He could still feel their eyes on him. He let his hair fall forward, masking his face.

"I...I guess..."

"I didn't hear you, I'm sorry." Vincent was taken aback by the sheer malice and amusement that seemed to blend in the professors tone. "Could you please repeat that, louder? So that we can all hear you? After all, it's important to stand behind what you believe."

The class seemed to snicker slightly, and Vincent forced himself to look up, trying to find something he could stare at that wouldn't be incriminating. His gaze glanced back at Cid, who seemed to almost be crouching in his chair, glaring at Hojo venemously. He tried to move his eyes away again, but he knew that this time Hojo wasn't the only one who caught the stare. He turned his eyes to the window, the whispers increasing as he tried to stop the heat from rising to his face.

"Yes...I think it's possible..."

"Do you really?" Prof. Hojo turned to the board and began writing something. Vincent didn't want to turn around, to reveal that he had caused his own arm to bleed because of tension. "You think that love can transverse everything, including physical appearance and sex?"

Vincent's claw was digging in deeper, and he was beginning to feel the stinging going up his arm. The eyes continued to stare at him. "Yes..."

"So tell me one more thing, Vincent, before you return to your seat..." Hojo returned to stand next to Vincent, his arms crossed and the smirk back on his face. "Do you think that people who are in love begin to resemble one another?"

He knew that there was no right answer again, not even if he lied. A dull noise came from the back of the room, and he looked up to find Cid had punched the wall rather hard and seemed to be snarling to himself. Hojo glanced in that direction momentarily, then returned his gaze to Vincent, the acidic tone back in his voice. "What do you think?"

Vincent remained silent, not wanting to answer, but knowing that silence was no less incriminating. Prof. Hojo took the opportunity. "Begin to act alike, talk alike...even...say...dress alike...? What do you think, Vincent? We all want your opinion."

Vincent's claw was causing his other arm to go numb. He tried to force it free, but he couldn't make it let go. He didn't want to be asked to be repeated again, so he made sure that his answer was clear, although he didn't want to give it. "I...I would suppose so..."

Prof. Hojo clapped twice, then gestured to the back of the room with his thin hand. "You may sit down, Vincent. You've said more then enough."

Vincent could still feel the eyes staring at him as he walked back up to his seat, wishing that he had been able to control himself. He could feel something sliding down his arm, he knew he was bleeding. His claw refused to let go until he was sitting down, and he stared at it underneath the desk, the tips shining red. He wanted to put his hands to his head, but he didn't want to get blood in his hair...

Cid was just cursing under his breath when Vincent sat down, but as soon as he saw his arm, he hissed sharply. "#$^#in' Christ, Vin, what the #$^# did you do?" 


	3. In Class

Vincent didn't feel like talking, feeling as though he had been betrayed by his own tongue, although he hadn't even intended on saying anything. He let his head fall onto his desk, still feeling the burning sensation of people staring at him.

"#$^#, Vin? Vin, are you okay? #@$^..." Cid mumbled under his breath. Cid looked upwards and found that Prof. Hojo hadn't even resumed talking, only staring at the two of them with a kind of detached interest. Cid glared at him in pure hatred.

"Hey, Vin needs some #$^#in' help." Cid stood up, taking a hold of Vincent's shoulder and pulling him up as well. Cid noted the complete lack of resistance that Vincent seemed to put up, and his refusal to show any kind of facial expression. Cid vaguely remembered Vincent mentioning something about how he locked up in front of people and assumed that he had completely locked himself away in an effort to deal with what was going on. He began walking down the aisle, hearing the soft snickers of those around him and trying to ignore them. Vincent followed him passively. Prof. Hojo continued to have that smirk on his face that Cid was rapidly growing to hate. Cid glared at Hojo, drawing himself up to his full height in front of him, which didn't amount to much, and walked out of the room. "We'll be back soon."

Cid slammed the door behind him and began cursing as soon as he did. "Those mother#$^#in' pieces of #$^#in' #$^#, what the #$^#..."

Vincent was staring at his bleeding arm, his face completely passive. When he spoke, his voice was completely emotionless. "I didn't intend to hurt myself. It was beyond my control. I'm bleeding rather badly."

"#$^#..." Cid looked around, not sure of what else to do. He dragged Vincent to the bathroom, letting go while he looked around for something to use to take care of the wound. Vincent stood quietly, his face still having a lost, faraway look.

"C'mon Vin, we got to #$^#in' clean your arm up. Mother#^$#..." Cid dragged Vincent to a sink and held his arm underneath it. Vincent didn't protest or help, only letting Cid wash away the blood angrily. "What the #$^# does that #$%^in' pompous #$% think he's doin', #$^#er...can't #$^#in' believe this #$^#..."

When his arm was clean, it was clear that Vincent had five small open slits in his arm that were still bleeding, although not too heavily. "#$^#..."

Cid pulled out a small knife from one of his pockets and clicked it open. He took the edge of the grey shirt angrily. "Sorry about your shirt Vin but..."

He ripped off a portion of the bottom, washing it off in the sink before wrapping it tightly around Vincent's arm, tying it off. "Got to stop this #$^#in' bleedin'..."

Cid looked at Vincent's face, which was still very far away. He shook his shoulders softly. "Vin? Vin, are you #$^#in' listenin' to me? Vin?"

Vincent looked down at him. "Highwind..." His eyes softened slightly. "You do realize that from now on, we're...we're..."

"#$^#ed?" Cid supplied and shook his head. He brushed a wet hand through his hair. "That's what I would #$^#in' guess. #$^#."

Vincent looked at his claws and finally made some movements of his own, washing off the tips with the same expressionless face. "This is my fault...I'm sorry, Highwind."

"$%^$, if this's anybody's #$^@in' fault it's that $%^# Hojo's, so shut the #$^# up." Cid took a hold of Vincent's arm. "Don't #$^#in' blame yourself for his #$^#in' trick questions."

Vincent shook off his claw quietly. "I shouldn't have said anything..."

"#$^# 'em!" Cid shouted, causing Vincent to break out of his stoic shell for a moment and stare at him in surprise. "#$^# 'em all, Vin! Who the #$^# cares, alright?" Cid turned and punched the wall viciously. "Who the #^#$in' #$^# cares? Let 'em #^#%in' think all the #$^#in' stupid #$^#in' #$^# they want, I don't give a flyin' #$^#! An' you shouldn't either!"

Vincent stared at him and finally raised his claw arm to stop Cid's arm from raising again. The anger and sudden burst of violence had surprised him, and he was worried. "Highwind, calm down, it's alright."

Cid smiled at him in relief, but Vincent could still see the lingering traces of anger in his eyes. "There's the Vin I know. Those stupid #$^#s don't know a #$#^in' thin', alright? Let 'em #$%^in' talk. I don't #$^#in' care. I know what's $%&@in' true an what #$%&in' ain't, and that's all that $%#@in' counts."

Vincent touched the impromptu bandage on his arm. "...we should go back..."

"#$^#." Cid crossed his arms and put a hand to his head, sighing deeply. "#^#%, wish I had a #$^#in' cig right now. Mother#$^#er..."

"It's alright." Vincent shook his head slightly, running his flesh hand through his hair, pushing it back. "I'll be okay, don't worry. I'm sorry if I frightened you, I've done that ever since I was a child..."

"Lock up?" Cid turned and headed for the door, hearing Vincent's soft footsteps behind him. "#$^#, it's okay, Vin."

Vincent sighed as they headed down the hallway. "I wish that I wouldn't have to endure their eyes again..."

"$%%%%%%@$ their eyes." Cid held out his arms light-heartedly. "Don't worry about 'em, Vin. They're #$^#ers."

Vincent smiled slightly. Cid took this a chance to continue on. "Huge #$^#ers. In fact, in my entire #^#%in' life, they're the biggest #^#%er's I've ever known! In fact-"

"Shh." Vincent put his hand on the door to the room. "Keep it down."

"Right." Cid took a deep breath as Vincent opened the door.

Prof. Hojo was writing something on the board, but turned as the two entered the room again. Vincent's claw instantly moved behind his back and the two remained in the doorway, as if waiting for him to say something before moving any further. Everyone turned to look.

"Ah, so you two are back." Prof. Hojo's voice was cold, and he looked at the grey fabric around Vincent's arm quietly, immediately assessing where it had come from. "I trust you didn't have any...difficulties?"

More quiet snickering. Cid took Vincent's arm, who seemed to have locked up again and dragged him forward, muttering under his breath. "No, you mother#$^@er."

"What was that?" Prof. Hojo's voice lost the quietly amused tone it had before and immediately became dangerous. Cid seemed to snarl in his throat quietly before responding. 

"Nothing."

"Hmm." Prof. Hojo leaned back and crossed his arms. Cid walked up the aisle towards their seats in the back, mumbling under his breath the entire time. He waited until the two were seated before speaking again, quiet clearly and carefully. "I'm glad you managed to take care of him, Cid. However, I think that is to be expected...you are his..."

Cid clenched his fists and felt his nails digging into his skin. His knuckles were already aching from when he had punched the wall before. He wished he had his gloves, they gave him an extra layer of protection when he felt like punching things. Hojo paused on purpose before continuing, seeming to be studying Cid's reaction. "...friend, are you not?" 


	4. Making Friends and Enemies

Cid didn't say anything, only glaring daggers at him. He knew that anything he said would just be turned against him like it had to Vincent. His headache was coming back in full force now and he winced as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He refused to show anything, watching Hojo turn back to the board and continue speaking.

Waiting for the black to pass, he held his head quietly, cursing under his breath. After it had cleared, he looked over at Vincent, who had picked up his pencil and was sketching what seemed to be automatically. The form came out quickly, a familiar thin, long-haired figure, bleeding and curled up on the ground.

"Don't worry about that #$^#, Vin..." Cid whispered, knowing what Vincent was trying to convey through his drawings what he couldn't convey through his facial expressions. "He's a #$^#in' #$^#@#$ with a #$^#in' stick up his #^#%in' #^# a #$^#in' mile long."

Vincent didn't respond, only writing in thin, spindly script on the edge of the paper nearest Cid. "I'll be okay. Can't risk talking, might break."

Cid nodded quietly after reading the note and rested his head on his hands, his headache still throbbing in the back of his skull. "#^#@in' hangover...what the #^@#..."

Fortunately the rest of the class passed without incident, although they continued to get stares from the rest of the class. Hojo apparently was done humiliating the two of them and didn't call on them for the rest of the class. They left relieved and tired, thankful that the rest of the class had been uneventful.

"What a #^#%in' piece of #$^#-#$#^ that class is." Cid grumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Vincent walked alongside of him, keeping his eyes to the ground. He smiled slightly.

"That's a new obscenity, I must admit..."

Cid smiled back. "Oh, you haven't really seen me go yet, I make up #$^$in' strings of #^#$ that don't even make sense. It's #$#^in' great."

"We should go get something to eat..." Vincent turned his head slightly towards the stairwell. "You know...so your headache'll stop."

"Right." Cid rubbed the back of his head slightly. "$^#@in' headache."

They headed down the stairs quietly, noting again the constant stares they were getting. 

"I hate being stared at..." Vincent mentioned as they were walking out in the hot day towards the dining hall. The sun was shining brightly and fiercely on the campus. "Did I ever mention that...? All my life, I've hated it..."

"Don't worry, Vin. They're #$^#in' morons, don't look at 'em." Cid shrugged, trying not to let the staring bother him as well. Despite his best efforts, it was getting to him, but he didn't want to mention it. "%&#^, there are other people who look a #%^#load weirder then we do."

"I don't think it's how we look that's getting attention..." Vincent whispered softly. Cid tried to continue with his point, even though he knew Vincent was right.

"See? Look over there, there's someone who looks a #$^#load weirder then us."

The man was sitting on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his head on his hands, staring forward. He had what appeared to be black cat ears coming from his short black hair and twitching near him was a long black tail, coming from underneath a red and black t-shirt, flicking lazily in the heat. His elbows rested on his black pants, his hands hanging. He had a small thin goatee and a sad look in his eyes as he stared forward listlessly.

Vincent sighed. "There are other people who have tails here, Cid. For example, there was that one blonde person I saw-"

"Shhh." Cid walked towards the man on the bench, gesturing for Vincent to follow. Vincent shrugged and followed him, not sure of what he was doing.

"Hey!" Cid sat down next to him, noting the nervous reaction he got from the cat-like man. "How's it goin'?"

"Um...fine, I guess..." His reply was hesitant and unsure. Vincent sat down as well, trying to think of a way to calm him down.

"I'm Vincent."

"I'm Cid Highwind!" Cid held a hand to his chest and smiled. He turned towards the other man. "Who're you?"

"I'm Reeve..."

"Great!" Cid smiled again and leaned his head back, apparently enjoying the sunlight. Vincent sighed.

"I'm sorry about this, he wanted to talk to you." Vincent shrugged. "I'm sorry if we're interrupting anything..."

"No, it's alright..." Reeve twitched one of his ears. "I just didn't expect anyone to sit next to me, that's all."

"Why not?" Cid asked before Vincent had a chance to respond. Reeve looked at his hands and held one of them up. He flexed his fingers and small claws appeared from his fingertips.

"...It's complicated..."

"Ah #$^$, how complicated can it be?" Cid didn't appear to be paying a great deal of attention. Vincent sighed again. "Just cause you look like a #$^#in' cat, it's no big deal."

"I'm Reeve..." He put his hand down, seeming to ignore what Cid said. He returned his stare downwards. "And I guess...you could also call me Cait Sith."

"Cait Sith?" Vincent held up a hand to silence Cid, who seemed to want to say something. "What do you mean?"

Reeve closed his eyes for a moment. "Right now I'm Reeve...but sometimes...if something bad happens or I can't deal with something...Cait Sith shows up instead..." He shook his head sharply and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense...I do this all the time..." He thumped his hand into his head for a few seconds. "Why do I always do this, I always do this..."

Cid grabbed Reeve's hand quickly. "Woah woah woah, calm down!"

Reeve sighed deeply. When he spoke, his voice had changed and become more casual. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak out on you guys there, it was an accident. I do that sometimes, it's no biggie."

Cid and Vincent exchanged glances.

Vincent opened his mouth to say something, but Cid cut him off. "Want to come eat with us, Cait?"

Reeve looked up at Cid in surprise, his large eyes blinking. He turned to Vincent, finding him nodding as well. Reeve turned to look at his hands again and nodded slowly. "Sure..."

"Great!" Cid stood, putting his hands back in his pockets. "Don't worry, Cait, we'll be your friends."

"If you want us to be..." Vincent added, not sure of whether or not Cid was scaring Reeve away. Reeve's white-tipped tail was flicking back and forth rapidly.

"Sure, sure!" He had a slight accent now that hadn't been present before. "You guys are great, thanks a lot! Reeve has some problems talking with people, he ain't exactly all there, if you know what I mean." He pointed to his head. "That's why he'll trip out and hit himself or start talking weird. But don't worry, he'll get out of it eventually."

Vincent blinked slightly, but Cid seemed to take this completely in stride. He began walking, smiling happily as he kept his hands in his pockets.

"Nothin' like warm days." Cid turned to Vincent. "Almost makes me forget my #$^#in' headache..."

Vincent nodded, not sure of what to say. Reeve walked on Vincent's other side, his tail sweeping along behind him as he smiled brightly. Vincent leaned towards Cid, whispering quietly.

"I think you did Reeve a favor by talking to him..."

"#$#^, you did him a favor by talkin' to him too, don't give me all the credit here." Cid smirked. "Besides, we all need friends, right? #$^#, I know I do."

Vincent just stared at Cid in surprise and heard Reeve humming happily near him. He shrugged and continued walking.

When they entered the dining hall, everyone seemed to stop for a moment to stare at them. Vincent began to wonder if he'd ever get used to this. Cid seemed to not care as he handed over his ID card, which he had apparently gotten out of his old clothes beforehand. Which reminded Vincent...

"Highwind, where'd you get that knife...?"

Cid turned to him. "Hmm? Oh that..."

Vincent handed over his own ID, noting the awkward look on Cid's face. "I just do, y'know, in case #$^# happens or somethin'...makes me feel better to have it, really..."

Cid then turned and began walking towards the main area, seemingly oblivious to the stares of everyone around him. "Now, I wonder what they got today."

Reeve paused near Vincent, looking at him with an almost catlike grin on his face. "He's real energetic, you know that? Real sparker."

Vincent didn't quite get the metaphor that he used, but he smiled slightly. "Yes, you're right."

Reeve walked forward, his tail lifted and held high for once. He looked back at Vincent with the same catlike grin. "Oh, and I'm Cait Sith. Not Reeve. You'll know when he's around."

Vincent nodded again, scratching his head softly as he walked forward. He could feel the strain on the wounds on his arm and sighed deeply. He really didn't want to go back to that class in two days, but what could he do...?

He thought back to the previous night. Cid had said he was scared and frightened...is that why he seemed to seek out other people who felt the same way...?

Vincent shrugged and picked up a tray, deciding that he should think about it later, when he knew more about Cid and Reeve, and most likely himself.

~~~

It took him a while to find where Cid and Reeve had chosen to sit. Vincent had never been good at picking faces out of a crowd, and he felt awkward without Cid's presence near him. He had forgotten how strange it felt to not have the shorter young man's comforting aura of strength. He finally located them near a corner, where they waved to him cheerfully. Vincent would have waved back, but his hands were full.

As he walked there, the stares seemed to increase and seemed to have a touch of hostility instead of the questioning blankness they had before. Vincent didn't like this development.

He slid into his seat and both Cid and Reeve smiled at him.

"Took you long enough, Vin!" Cid had picked up some rather high-energy food, which didn't really surprise Vincent at all. All of the food that Reeve had chosen seemed to have some kind of element of seafood in it. Vincent, however, had stuck with the vegetarian selection.

Reeve leaned forward, whispering in a not-very-confidential way. "Hey, I don't know if y'guys know this or not, but everybody here is staring at you."

Cid stared at Reeve levelly and flicked his nose. "Jesus, Reeve, what the #$^# gave you that idea?"

Reeve backed away, his ears lowered, and rubbed his nose in annoyance. "I'm not Reeve, I'm Cait Sith, I told you that already."

Vincent nodded quietly and sipped his drink. "Yes, we are aware of that though, Cait Sith..." He shook his head quietly. "I believe rumors are spreading that are untrue. Today's class couldn't have helped."

"Oh wait..." Reeve looked thoughtful for a moment, his ears pricking up. "You mean, you're those two guys everyone's talkin' about?"

Cid and Vincent both stared at Reeve for a second. They had different reactions.

"Talkin' about?"

"Everyone?"

Reeve took a drink from his glass and then blinked at them in surprise. "Yeah, jeez, I would've thought you would know by now!"

"I may have guessed..." Vincent rested his head on his flesh hand. "But what are they saying?"

Reeve looked back and forth for a moment and held his hands up, his ears lowered again. "Don't kill me for this, I'm just a messenger, but they think you guys are majorly boffin' eachother."

Vincent stared in incomprehension while Cid grabbed a fork almost compulsively. Cid's voice was very strained.

"They what?"

"Hey hey hey hey." Reeve seemed to lower himself in his seat, holding his hands up again. "I said don't kill the messenger, okay? There's all this stuff going on about how you came out of his room, and how there were weird noises, and how you're wearing his clothes, and everythin'! They say it's really obvious you guys are sexin' it up all over."

Cid's eye twitched. Vincent buried his hands in his hair. "I left the TV on, no wonder there were strange noises..."

"WHAT THE #$^#-" Cid slammed the fork into the table and stood up, knocking the chair back sharply. Reeve curled up in his chair, the fur on his tail rising in alarm.

"Agh! Don't kill the messenger, don't kill the messenger!"

"Highwind, please!" Vincent reached out and took hold of Cid's arm, pulling him back down. "We don't need to attract any more attention then we already have!"

Cid began to string curse words together, muttering under his breath with his arms crossed as he went and retrieved his chair, pulling it back up and sitting down angrily. Reeve finally uncurled, seeing the danger was over, and looked at both of them in surprise.

"So you mean it isn't true an' all?"

Cid glared at him while Vincent was the one who responded. "No, it isn't. I'll explain what happened later, this isn't exactly the place."

Cid looked around and noticed that almost everyone was staring at them again, more actively then before. Reeve raised one eyebrow.

"Right...sorry 'bout bringin' that up, I probably should've kept my mouth shut."

"It's alright." Vincent noted with concern that Cid was staring at the table in silence, something that seemed very uncommon for him. He leaned on his elbows and sighed. "I guess my assumption was right...I didn't think it was that far though, I only thought that they perhaps thought there was an emotional relationship, not a physical one..."

Vincent was masking his words more then he intended, but it was a natural reaction of his when he got upset. Reeve toyed with a fishstick on his plate. "Either way, you guys are targets, MAJOR targets. You should be careful." He pointed at both of them with the fishstick. "I don't want you guys to get hurt, you're the only people who talk to me."

Vincent nodded and touched Cid's arm. "Are you alright...?"

Cid took a deep breath, then exhaled, the tension that Vincent could feel in his arm lessening. It took him a while until he could speak. "Yeah, I'm #$^#in' fine, just didn't think they thought we were #$^#in', that's all...stupid #$^$s..."

Vincent looked down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "I do agree though...I think we should be careful..."

~~~

They bid farewell to Reeve outside of Vincent's dorm. Although Cait Sith wanted to stay with them, Reeve wanted some time to himself, and so they said their goodbyes. They promised to meet up again at some time, however, and exchanged room numbers. They also agreed that they shouldn't walk alone, any of them, and to be careful. It hadn't taken Vincent and Cid long to become friends with Reeve, who was really a nice guy, if a bit confused at times. His physical abnormalities weren't so much as a disfigurement then a characteristic of Cait Sith, and therefore became perfectly normal to them both. They did understand, however, how Reeve could have no friends, considering that even if someone got beyond his appearance, they had to get past the Reeve/Cait Sith complex, and that took effort. However, outcasts as they were, Cid and Vincent didn't give up easily.

It was assumed that they'd be heading to Vincent's room, considering that it was the most hospitable place for the two to stay, considering how touchy Reno could be. As they headed up the stairs, a high-pitched laugh seemed to come from their floor. Heading for Vincent's room, they noted a woman with blonde hair and a extremely lowcut red dress, laughing in an extremely high-pitched tone. The minute she saw them, her eyes hardened with a sadistic glint.

"Well well well, what have we here?" Her voice arced at strange points. Vincent whispered under his breath at Cid, who was tensing up angrily.

"Don't say anything, ignore her..."

"It's the little homo and his #$^#@. Going back to his room to go #$@%?"

"YOU #$^#IN'-" Cid lunged for her, only stopped by Vincent grabbing his arm before he could reach her. She pressed against the wall, laughing hysterically as Cid continued cursing randomely, still trying to reach her as Vincent held him back.

"Highwind, calm down! Please! We can't give her what she wants!"

This made her laugh louder. Cid eventually made an angry frustrated noise and began walking quickly down the hall, his fists clenched in fury. Vincent followed, his own anger masked perfectly.

"#$^#in' #$^#@. I'll get you!" Cid turned and pointed at her. "I'll #$^#in' beat the #$^# out of you, don't think I won't!"

"I don't think so, shorty. You aren't man enough to even TOUCH me."

Cid was trembling, but managed to control his rage enough to not go lunging after her again. "I bet every #$^#in' guy HERE has #$^#in' touched you, you #$^#in' slut-whore! Go #$^# a bedpost!"

The woman turned on him angrily, her face contorted in fury. "No one calls Scarlet a slut!"

"You're a #$%^in' slut-WHORE, didn't you #$^@in' hear me!?" Cid shouted at her. Vincent touched his shoulder, his door open. 

"C'mon Highwind, just forget her..."

"I won't forget this!" Scarlet shouted after Cid as he followed Vincent.

"Shut the #$^# up, slut-whore!"

Cid slammed the door to the room and instantly curled into the corner of the bed, pressing his head against the wall in frustration.

Vincent rubbed his arm awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. "Look, I wouldn't listen to her. Her opinion isn't worth considering..."

"$^#% her, Vin. #$^# 'em all..." Cid slid onto his side, pressing his hands into his head. "#$^# the doctors an' #$^# the dizzy spells an' #$^# that #$^#er Hojo an' #$^# college an' #$^# life in #$^#in' general...#$#$ em' all..."

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, sighing. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be the end of this...and to think..." He stared at his hands. "This is only our second day..."

"And already we got the entire #$^#in' school against us. We must have a #$^#in' gift." Cid curled onto his side and tried to hide underneath the blankets, his voice angry and tight. "Oh, I forgot to mention, #^#^ this piece of #$^#in' #$^# hangover, god#$^# it..."

Vincent fell back himself, letting his arms fall outwards. He sighed as well. "Well, at least it can't get any worse..."

There was a pounding on the door and deep voice shouted through it. "Did one of you #$^#ers in there call Scarlet a slut-whore!? You get out here right now-"

Vincent reached over and picked up the remote, turning the TV on and turning up the volume until it drowned out the shouting and the pounding. He slid back towards the wall, sighing as he settled into his old position. Cid finally got out from underneath the blankets and sat next to him like before, sighing deeply.

"#$^#, Vin, this is just beginnin. We're goin' to get dragged through #$^#in' #^$# before this is all over."

"And it's all circumstance..." Vincent sighed and changed the channel. "We're victims of circumstance..."

"#$^# Vin, everyone is. We're not #$^#in' victims, we're #$^#in' TARGETS. #$^#in' targets of circumstance..." Cid took the remote from Vincent and began flipping channels rapidly. "#$@^ it, #$^# it all, I #$^#in' hate this..."

"We'll get through this somehow..." Vincent tried to make himself believe it, but somewhere he simply couldn't. "They can't keep this up forever..."

"#$^# 'em all." Cid responded, continuing to flip through channels rapidly. "#$^# the #$^#ers to #$^#in' #$^#, the pieces of #$^#."

Vincent sighed and waited for Cid to stop on one channel. "I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with you..."

Cid paused for a moment, then began clicking through channels again. "#$^#." 


	5. Encounter with Weapon

The two sat and watched TV together for what must have been an hour, making half-hearted jabs at the actors. Both of them were concerned over what was happening and what could happen and this made their talk heavier and quieter then it had ever been before.

Vincent finally sighed and put down the remote, looking down. "Strife will probably be back soon..."

"Right..." Cid slid off the bed, heading for the phone. He fished the slip of paper out of his pocket and dialed quickly. "Yo, Reeve?...Cait, whatever. Mind comin' on over? Considerin' the atmosphere I don't think it's the greatest #$^#in' idea in the world for me to be walkin' around alone."

Vincent was searching around his desk, not sure of what to do. He didn't want Cid to be hurt because of him, he never wanted that...he wanted some way that he could help protect him, even if it wasn't truly physical. Unfortunately, his posessions didn't leave much to the imagination. He looked towards Cid, who apparently was having a rather active conversation with Reeve on the phone. His eyes glanced down at the pad of paper on the floor, and he picked it up, leaning back against the wall to begin to sketch.

"C'mon, it ain't that bad, sure, Hojo's a #$^#$, but you can't let him do that to you!...Well, #$#^...shut up, that won't happen again! Cause I said so, that's why! Oooo, you're askin' to get that tail of yours pulled! Yeah, wouldn't like that, would you? What?! You leave my goggles out of this, you little..."

Vincent could tell from his tone that the two were teasing eachother gently and without seriousness. He smiled quietly as he tried to draw himself on the paper, demonic wings flaring to protect a smaller, feather winged person underneath him. He wasn't sure what other way he could give protection, knowing that he couldn't be with Cid all the time, but he felt as though this was at least making some kind of visible effort.

"What class you got tomorrow, catface?...Well of COURSE you don't like that name, that's why I thought of it! Pff, you're too easy to #$^% off, man. So what class you got?" Cid pulled the paper out of his pocket, looking at it as he supported the phone on one shoulder. "Great, me too! We can meet up there and ignore everythin' together! ...Pff, you sound as if you WANT to pass college, catface...well of COURSE that's not the purpose of college, man! It's to get drunk and get #$^@ed, everyone knows that."

Vincent began snickering to himself, finding the irony too much for him. Cid pointed at him with the paper. "Shut up, I don't need any comments from YOU."

Vincent rolled his eyes and darkened his lines, trying to shade evenly. His shading always seemed to be blocky and sharp and it bothered him, but here he seemed to be making progress. "And to think, that's what started this entire mess."

"Hey catface, meet me here in fifteen minutes, okay?" Cid hung up without waiting for a response, smiling broadly. "#$^#, I don't think I've ever met a guy in my life that's easier to tweak with then him."

"I'll make a note of that." Vincent smiled softly and continued to work. It wasn't long before Cid was hovering around him, blinking curiously. 

"What are you drawing?" 

"Oh..." Vincent put his pencil down and handed the paper to Cid. "A gift, I guess. I suppose you could say it's my way of offering my protection." 

If Vincent expected an awkward pause he didn't get one. Cid smiled brightly at him and folded the paper twice, putting it in one of his many pockets. "Thanks, Vin! Don't worry, I think everything will blow over soon anyway. Those #$^#ers got to get tired of it sometime." 

Cid slid off the bed again, rubbing the back of his head. "#$^@, wish I thought to bring my cigs tho'. #^#%. In fact, mother#$^#."

"You'll get them soon, Highwind, don't worry." Vincent's arm twitched slightly, and he remembered about earlier that day. Curious, he tried to unwrap the fabric with his claw, but only ended up shredding it instead. Sighing, he pulled the fabric away, staring at the five glaring red marks left on the inside of his arm.

Again, Cid had come to look. "Really did a #$^#in' number, Vin, I'm not kiddin'."

Vincent sighed. "I didn't intend to...it's a nervous reaction of mine...to clench this..." Vincent couldn't even continue with what he intended. He moved around it. "Whenever I get upset..."

The gold glinted softly in the light. Cid stared at him seriously for a moment and took the claw authoratively. "Vin, come on. It's not that bad. You're way too #$#^in' hard on yourself."

Vincent didn't physically respond, his voice level. "I'm worried, Highwind. What if one of us gets hurt...? I mean...with all the rumors going around..."

"#$^# the rumors, man!" Cid leaned back on his heels and stood, his feet sinking into the bed. He wavered for a second, then found his balance, putting a hand to his chest. "I'm Cid #$^#in' Highwind, I'll beat the #$^# out of anyone that tries to touch you! An' me, for that matter. An' good ol' catface."

Vincent shook his head and smiled in spite of himself. "Are you going to call him that permanently now?"

Cid sat down quickly, bouncing a few times before responding. "Hey, I could be callin' you gothboy."

Vincent raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "Gothboy?"

Cid smiled and leaned against the wall for a second. "Or I could think of somethin' even worse. You're lucky you got off with Vin."

"You always make up nicknames for people...?" Vincent leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, more because he wanted something to do with his arms then anything else. Cid looked at him levelly and managed to return the same kind of smile that Vincent had before.

"You always use their lastnames? I bet it's drivin' you #$^#in' nuts you can't figure out what Catface's last name is."

Vincent looked vaguely annoyed while Cid smiled knowingly. "Ah, see? I was right!" Cid again shifted off the bed. "See, I'm always right."

Vincent smiled again, leaning back to watch Cid walk around the room, poking at things. "You're always right, are you?"

"#$^# yeah." Cid poked something that spun and smiled. "Doubt me?"

There were some timid knocks on the door. Cid opened it before Vincent even thought of getting up, pulling Reeve inside and closing the door quickly behind him.

"How was your trip?" Vincent inquired from the bed. Reeve was brushing himself off from his rough pull into the room, his clothes pretty much the same as before, his shirt now black in the front and red in the back and the slacks replaced with black cargos. His ears flicked back and forth, following his inquisitive eyes.

"Got the royal starin' treatment, as usual." Reeve noted that there was a large blank space on Cloud's shelf where the books were supposed to be and instantly made his way up there, despite the fact he had to climb the desk to do so. He layed down on the shelf and rested his head on his hands, smiling in that catlike way of his that seemed so natural. "Think people've never seen a cat before..."

"Maybe it's 'cause you're only a #$^#in' half-@#$ed cat, catface." Cid seemed to be filled with a bizarre kind of energy, jumping back onto the bed with such force that Vincent was knocked out of his curled position. "What the #$^# you doin' up there anyway?" 

"I'm plottin' to take over the world, genius, what do you think?" The catlike smile remained on Reeve's face. Vincent watched him in amazement. Earlier today, when talking to him, even when he was Cait Sith, this kind of ease hadn't been present. Cait Sith must have really grown to trust them in the span of time that had passed since the parted. He wondered if Reeve would follow suit.

"#$^#, if you do, can I make sure a few people die in some real nasty ways?" Cid smiled. "I know a few that really #$^#in' deserve it." 

Reeve let one of his thin arms fall over the edge of the shelf, drifting lazily across the top of the Cloud's monitor. "So do I, really. I think everyone does. But anyway, why'd you invite me here anyway, you spaz?"

"Don't call me a spaz, catface." Cid pointed at Reeve mock-threateningly, who lowered his ears.

"Spaz."

"Catface."

"Spaaaaz." 

"Caaaatfacceeeee."

"Yes, the maturity in this room is astounding." Vincent remarked quietly, causing the two to turn their eyes to him.

"You're too serious, Vin, honestly." Cid shrugged. Reeve flicked his tail back and forth lazily along the same trajectory his hand had been following, a smile crossing his face. The same smile lit up Cid's face a few seconds later. "You should lighten up."

"It's not my fault you-" Vincent was cut off as Cid lept at him and began tickling him furiously. "AGH!"

Reeve began to laugh from the top shelf as Vincent tried in vain to push Cid away while laughing too hard to talk.

"See? You look better already!" Cid was laughing as well as Vincent squirmed, trying to get away from him. Reeve sat up slightly, propping up his elbows and letting his head rest in his hands.

"Stop! Agh!" 

The sound of clicking from the door cause all sound in the room to stop. Cid backed away quickly from Vincent and in the process managed to trip over his chair. He gave a short cry of surprise before falling on his back heavily. Vincent pulled himself up, trying to catch his breath. Reeve remained completely silent, his tail lifted back up to the level of the rest of his body.

Cloud walked in, looking tired and worn. He threw his bag near Cid, almost striking him, as he slammed the door. He finally seemed to notice Cid after a moment's pause.

Cid struggled to right himself, managing to somehow knock the chair over again in the process. He put it back up and brushed himself off, holding his head slightly. The dizziness there must have been terrible.

"Again, would you please warn me when you have people over?" Cloud moved over to his bed, sitting down with a thump.

Reeve's tail wandered back down near the monitor as he spoke. "Sorry, we don't want to bothering you..."

Cloud jumped as he realized that Reeve was there, then again looked at Vincent, just in time to miss Reeve repeatedly thumping his head into the shelf mumbling to himself.

"Stupid stupid stupid..."

Cid stood and pulled on Reeve's tail gently.

"Woah woah woah, stop it, come on! It's no big deal, come on."

Reeve slowly turned to look at him, his forehead a slightly darker color then the rest of his face, his expression changing for a few moments, then returning to the ease it had before. "Sorry about that, don't know what came over me..."

Vincent sighed deeply as Reeve made his way down from the shelf with a quiet grace. "I'm sorry, but I think you should probably go..."

"No problem, Vin, no problem." Cid smiled lightheartedly, pushing Reeve along in front of him. "We'll be back later, alright? Call us if you need us."

Vincent nodded as the two left, bantering back and forth seemingly carelessly. Vincent again felt a twinge of worry for them both. He hoped they'd be alright.

Cloud continued to stare at him for a few moments, as if waiting for him to explain something, then shook his head, rolling onto his side on his bed. "I'm going to sleep...turn the lights off."

Vincent obediantly flicked the switch and sat in darkness, unable to rest.

~~~

Cid and Reeve meandered down the hall, glancing back at the room where Vincent had been left alone.

"Man, what a #$^#$. I still got a #$^#in' headache and now Vin's roomie is all like 'this be my room now, #$^@%, get out!' and stuff." Cid put a fake accent into his speech, eliciting some muffled snickering from Reeve. "I ain't down with that."

"Stop that." Reeve's tail moved back and forth lazily as they headed down the stairs. "You're just being silly now."

"Pff, I was born to be #$^#in' silly, catface."

"Whatever, spazboy."

Cid playfully lept for Reeve, but he dodged out of the way with the feline grace that came so naturally to him. Cid laughed and crossed his arms. "$#^#in' catface. You're too #$^#in' fast."

"Comes with the territory." Reeve stuck his tongue out at him and continued walking down the hallway, Cid following along behind. "Never been hit by somethin' thrown at me in my life."

"Yeah yeah." Cid looked slightly awkward for a moment. "Hey, can I stay at your place for a while? My roomies a #$^#in' #$#%."

Reeve paused for a moment then smiled. "Sure I guess. But you got to go back sometime tonight."

"Hey hey, I said a little while!" Cid held up his hands nonthreateningly as they walked towards Reeve's dorm, which was in-between his and Vincent's. "Not like I'm #^$@in' askin' you to marry me or somethin'."

"Good, 'cause I'd divorce you in a second." Reeve's tail was flicking back and forth playfully as he smirked back at Cid, who caught up and put his arms behind his head.

"Pff, divorce me an' I'll take you for everythin' you got, @#%@%."

"I'll see you in court then! I want the dog, and the cat, and the car..."

"Pff, you already HAVE the cat, catface."

"Great, you just ruined the entire thing! Thanks a lot."

"No wonder I want a divorce."

"No, I wanted the divorce." 

"Lies! All lies!" Cid kicked open the door to Reeve's dorm roughly and walked in, his arms outstretched. "You know what, catface? I just can't handle the truth, that's what. Just can't. I got a restrainin' order on it too."

Reeve rolled his eyes. "You never quit, do you? Come on, my room's over here."

Cid waited impatiently while Reeve struggled to remember where he had put his room key. He noticed as he waited the stares he was getting from everyone passing by with increasing annoyance. The fact that Reeve was talking to himself and pulling debris out of his pockets wasn't helping at all.

"God#$^# it, catface, speed it up already."

"Ah! Here we go." Reeve smiled and unlocked the door. "I wonder if Moog's in..."

"He your roomie?" Cid walked in. Reeve's side of the room was decorated with pictures of cats and various casinos, along with what seemed to be architectural plans. The other side of the room seemed somewhat barren in comparison, but the same kind of fascination with casinos seemed to be present. Cid, having no real respect for anyone's sense of personal property, went and sat on Reeve's bed, propping his feet up.

Reeve cocked his head slightly, his ears changing positions slightly with each motion. "Yeah, we've been friends for what feels like forever, so we signed up to be roommates. I feel bad for you suckers who just got the random assignments."

"Yeah, I bet you're #^#^in' sorry." Cid found a ball of yarn and began throwing it idly at the ceiling. "What's he like?"

"Ah, the quiet type. I don't think he'll appeal t'you much, but me and him go waaay back." Reeve was watching the yarnball with great interest. "Either way, you can stay here if you want for a while, but y'got to go back sometime."

"Don't worry about it." Cid let the yarn ball fall back into his hands, looking at it for a moment before throwing it upwards again. "I'll be fine."

"I hope so." Reeve leaned back and sighed. "I really hope so."

Cid's night was spent rather uneventfully in Reeve's room. They mainly just pretended to bicker back and forth until his roommate came back. He was a huge, completely white, overweight kid that seemed to dwarf everything in the room. He talked slowly, but he wasn't stupid. Cid was surprised for a moment, but at the happiness in Reeve's face at seeing his friend, he shrugged and decided to go along with it. 

Cid eventually had to bid Reeve and Moogle (as he found out he was called) farewell and, tired of people having to go out of their way for him, he decided to walk back alone. It was about time he started doing things for himself again.

The staring was beginning to bother him, although he liked to pretend it didn't. His thoughts wandered to the paper in his pocket. Vincent had drawn himself with demon wings, and he had angel ones...

Cid sighed and rubbed his head, his headache still lingering somewhere in the back. He wondered why Vincent had made him the angel...was it because that he thought that he was a demon himself, or because he thought that highly of Cid? He wasn't sure. He did feel better with the paper with him however.

He left the dorm and began walking back to his own, sighing. He didn't want to have to deal with Reno right now. Considering the rumors going around, it would just give him more ammunition to use against him, and Cid really didn't want to listen to his cruel jabs while he tried to sleep. Especially since his head hurt. He shouldn't have drank so much...

He paused on the sidewalk, a slight breeze blowing by in the night air. He looked at the sky, finding the moon to be nearing full. Where had the time gone? It felt like it had just been lunch...

Time flies when you're having fun. He smiled to himself. When he was with his friends, he really did feel like time went so much quicker. It had always been a problem for him, the passage of time. He always felt like it was too slow, and that the world was moving at a snails pace compared to his own. He wondered if anyone else felt that way.

The sound of a footstep nearby brought him out of his daydream and he looked around, wondering what new person would be staring at him this time.

This person was standing in front of him, arms crossed. Their hair was spiked up in an extremely odd way, dyed a sapphire blue color. In fact, he was dressed entirely in the same hue, his wrists adorned with other sharp looking blue shards. And he was well out of Cid's league in strength. Cid backed away slightly, dread completely filling his body. Knowing his own #$^#in' bad luck, this wasn't going to be pretty...

More footsteps around him. He turned to his right to find another one, almost the same stature as the one in front of him, this one however dressed in black. Turning in a slow circle, he found a red one behind him, and the most peculiar of all, one that seemed completely white.

"Who the #$^# are you?" Cid couldn't stand the silence and tried to sound confident. He really, really could use a cigarette now. The four stared at him with unconcealed hatred and disgust.

"We don't take kindly to your type here." The blue one in front of him gestured slightly, and the black one moved towards him. "We're here to teach you a lesson."

"Is that #^#@in' so?" Cid struggled to keep the confidence in his voice. In truth, being surrounded by four people who were, not only physically superior, but actively wished him harm, was frightening him more then he wanted to admit. He tried to lock away his fear, struggling to be able to ignore it. 

Cid waited for the black one to approach him before dropping suddenly, kicking out and knocking him flat on his back. He crossed his arms again and smirked confidently, hoping that would be enough to show that he wasn't defenseless and make them back off. "Well, what #$^%in' lesson was that?"

The blue one simply glared at him for a moment before turning away. "Diamond, Ruby, bring him over here, out of sight."

"The $%^# you will!" Cid turned on the white one, not sure which one he should be watching out for. "Get the #$^# away from me!"

Diamond wasn't the one he should have watched out for. In a moment his legs were taken out from underneath him and he fell, Ruby having knocked him down from below. He hit the sidewalk harder then he would have liked, and he winced. His entire field of vision went completely black, accompanied by the normal horrible pain in his head. Figures he'd have to have a spell NOW, wouldn't it?

That didn't stop him from struggling as they grabbed his arms, dragging him off to some darker area away from the sidewalk. He tried to speak, but he felt as if his words were garbled in his current state. He'd have to wait for the dizziness to wear off first...he couldn't do anything in this condition. The pain was making things blurry.

"Ultima, drop him here."

Cid again changed altitudes and angles, which didn't help the spell in any way whatsoever. He couldn't help but put a hand to his head, trying to stop the world from moving. The pain increased steadily, and the blackness in front of his eyes began to throb and shift, changing colors so that he could occasionally see some reality, but only for a few moments before it disappeared.

"Is that all it takes to take you down? This shouldn't take to long then."

"Sapphire, what do we do?"

"What do you think?" The blackness faded enough so that he could see the spikes off of one of their bracelets and their clenched fist in front of his face. "Like I said before, teach him a lesson."

He could hear them moving around them as his vision blacked out, entirely again, bringing with it another wave of disorienting pain. The fear he had tried to keep locked away before had now completely taken over him, and he could feel his heart quicken. Already knowing what was going to happen, and helpless to stop it, Cid groaned underneath his breath. "I am SO #$^#ed." 


	6. Recovery

Vincent was reading by a small nightlight near his bed when the hesitant tapping came to his door. He looked up, confused, placing his paper bookmark in his book and moved forward. It was rather late for visitors... Along with the tapping came a slight dripping noise and the sound of someone shifting their weight unevenly. Shrugging, he went to the door and opened it.

Cid was leaning heavily against the doorjam, almost unable to support himself. His knuckles were raw and bleeding, along with a cut across one eye and another near his other eyebrow, which was hard to see due to the huge black eye that accompanied it. His hair was dirty and had dark red marks in it, and the clothing he had borrowed from Vincent was now completely in tatters, revealing more bruises and bloody cuts. He was trying to keep the weight off his leg, his feet curling enough to show that they were as well cut and raw on the bottom.

"Oh my god!"

Cid's voice was soft and hesitant and frightened, completely different then anything Vincent had ever heard before. "C-can I stay with...with you tonight, Vin...?"

Vincent turned quickly to check if Cloud had awoken and pulled Cid into the room, closing the door behind him. Cid leaned on him heavily, almost unable to support his own weight. Vincent kept his voice to a whisper, making glances at Cloud to see if he was stirring. Fortunately, Cloud was sleeping soundly.

Vincent helped lift Cid to the bed, where he slumped as soon as Vincent removed his supportive hands. Vincent grabbed a nearby cloth and began dabbing at the bleeding cut near Cid's eyebrow, his voice panicked in a whisper. "Oh my god, Highwind, what happened? Tell me what happened!"

"Ow...ow, Vin, that hurts..." Cid tried ineffectively to bat away Vincent's hand but was too weak to do anything about it. Vincent continued to try and clean his face. "Stop..."

"Tell me what happened." Vincent felt near tears. This was his fault, this had to be his fault, if only he had been with him, if only he had protected him, if only he hadn't left him alone, what had he been thinking...

"#$^#in'...jumped by #$%^in' too many...too many for me...$&^$er's..." Cid winced again as Vincent tried to clean some of the dirt of his face, trying to pull away. "%$^#..."

"Oh Highwind, this is terrible, I knew something like this would happen...this is awful..."

"I'll be okay, Vin...I'll be alright..." Cid smiled lopsidedly. "I made it here, so everythin'll be okay...you can help me..."

Vincent felt tears falling from his eyes involuntarily at his words and hugged the beaten young man to him tightly, trying to keep his voice quiet. "Highwind, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, this is all my fault..."

"#$^$ Vin, could you angst later...I'm in a lot of pain here..."

"Right, right..." Vincent let go and sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Cid smiled again. "That's what I said, wasn't it...?"

"What did they do to you...?" Vincent took hold of Cid's tattered sleeves gently, pulling the shirt off over his head. Cid ducked his head obediantly, his voice muffled by the fabric. Cid's chest wasn't in better condition then the rest of him that Vincent had seen, covered with thick bruises and numerous small abrasions, no doubt from being shoved into the ground, or dragged, or...

"#$^#in' beat th' #$$^ out've me...four of th'#$^#ers...#$^#in' blacked out too, m'#@#@in' luck..."

Vincent studied his grey shirt. It was now torn and bloodied, almost beyond repair. He pushed it underneath some of his other clothes in his drawer, finding another black shirt to replace it. He walked back, finding Cid rocking back and forth, holding his sides with his eyes closed. A feeling of regret and sadness both came over him in the same moment, his heart feeling deep pain at watching Cid trying to hide such anguish.

"Here..." He gently touched Cid's shoulder in an area that hadn't been wounded, causing him to break out of whatever kind of spell he had been under. He threaded Cid's thin hands through the long sleeves, pulling it over his head quietly. Cid kept his eyes mainly closed, apparently trying to deal with something mentally.

"#$^#, 'm sorry your shirt is #$^#ed..." Cid mumbled, moving one of his hands to his head. Vincent's shirt was far too large for Cid and it dwarfed his hands as he rubbed his forehead painfully, the fabric gently scraping over the open wounds. "'M sorry..."

"You don't have to be sorry at all, Highwind, please." Vincent walked back to his dresser, searching through it for something that would cause the least irritation. "This wasn't your fault, this couldn't be your fault, don't blame yourself..."

Vincent walked back carrying some black cotton pants, the bottom part of some pair of pajamas that he wasn't sure where the other part was. Cid was again rocking back and forth, but he held out his hands as Vincent came close. He must have known that Vincent wanted him to change his tattered jeans...

Vincent stood in front of him, looking down awkwardly. "This should be soft, at least, I think it's the softest thing I own..."

Cid's hands hadn't been searching for the replacement for the jeans, but for Vincent himself. He pulled him close, his dirty and spiked hair scraping against Vincent's shirt, his entire body shaking. He had been trying to be strong, trying to hide how much pain he was truly in, and for a few moments that wall he had constructed broke, and he was frightened. Anger at himself for his weakness and his desire for comfort struggled within him as his mouth simply said whatever came to mind. "#$#^ Vin, y'wouldn't #$^#in' believe the #$#^ they made me say...they said I was...they said I did...#$^#, Vin, through all of it I don't think they #^#%in' knew about the picture...I think I still got it...#$^#ers didn't find it, it saved me..."

Vincent was confused at Cid's sudden show of weakness, but he put his arms around him to reciprocate, not sure of what else to do. He felt awkward, using such physical contact when he was almost positive that was the last thing that Cid wanted, but that couldn't be right, because Cid had reached out to him first...And the picture...Vincent's picture had done nothing, what was he talking about..? "What do you mean?"

"#$^#ers...they didn't think I'd make it back, but they were wrong, #$%^in' wrong...I made it back here, so I'm safe...#$^#ers didn't think of that...#$^#ers thought they got me for good..." Cid was still shaking. "Thought they'd make me #$^#in' stay away, 'cause they said they'd get me again...#$^@ers tried to make me stay away from you but I can't...#$^@ 'em all, I jus' can't...you're th' only one that makes me feel safe...I knew you'd take care of me if I found my way here..."

"Highwind..." Vincent brushed back Cid's hair, rubbing his back with his other hand, trying to keep his voice under control. Cid trusted him so deeply, so completely...why...how...No one he had ever known had trusted him like this...what did that mean? He was touched by the depth of his trust, and confused at the same time. "I'm sorry...I wish I could have been there to help you..."

"#^#% it, Vin..." Cid let go shakily, taking the pants from Vincent as he did so. "You're here #$^$in' now and that's what counts..."

Vincent turned away, thinking about his words while Cid changed, not sure of what to make of them. Cid had made his way through the beatings convinced that Vincent would be there to help him...they had made him promise not to go see him again, amongst other things that he didn't want to ask about, and yet here he was...he could have gone to Reeve, or his own room, or even someone in authority, but he came back here...

Because he made him feel safe...

But why? Why? Vincent didn't understand...what had he done that made Cid trust him so much?

"#$^#...everyone #$^#in' hits me, #$^#ers..." He turned around, assuming Cid was done. He was staring at Vincent quietly, his wounds still bleeding. "You're the only person who wouldn't #$^%in' hit me for bein' stupid now, y'know that?"

"Highwind, that's not true..." Vincent headed for the closet, digging out the box that held the emergency supplies. He pulled out some bandages and antiseptic, heading back. He wondered what Cid meant, but tried to distract himself. "There have to be others..."

"#$^#, Vin, I put you through #$^# and here you are, takin' care of me when you should be sleepin'...#%@%..."

"Highwind, you haven't done anything wrong, to me or to deserve this." Vincent moved Cid's hair out of the way and dabbed at the wound over his eye. "You haven't done anything wrong..."

"Ow, ow!" Cid tried weakly to push Vincent away and failed. "That #^#^in' stings!"

"It's supposed to." Vincent finished quickly and put a bandage over the wound. "I don't understand why you trust me so much to help you like this..."

"Want a list, Vin?" Cid sighed slightly, as if he had already answered the question. "One, you #$^#in' read my stories an' didn't call me a #$$#in' loon. Two, you #$^#in' read my stories PERIOD. Three, you didn't call me a #$^#in' moron when I said I had ADD. Four, you listened to me when I rambled on about stupid #$^#in' #$^#. Five, you think I'm funny. Six, you let me drink. Seven, you didn't #$^#in' spaz when I got drunk. Eight, you let me..." He paused slightly. "You let me #^$#$in' sleep with you. Nine, you #$^#in' helped me in class. Ten, you #^#$in' let me sleep in class..."

"That's enough." Vincent smiled slightly, wiping away some of the dirt that had smeared on Cid's cheek. "I didn't think I'd done that much."

"And finally..." Cid smiled weakly. "You didn't #$^#in' get mad at me, ever."

"Did people always get mad at you?" Vincent put another bandage near Cid's eyebrow. He wasn't sure what posessed him to ask such a stupid question...

"#$^# yeah...I drive people #$^#in' up the #$^#in' wall...you're the only person who hasn't done that..."

"Gone up a wall?" Vincent smiled slightly again, brushing back Cid's bangs. He was surprised that Cid had answered the question so readily...He began working with Cid's scraped knuckles, cleaning and bandaging them as well.

"Ow, that #^#@in' stings like a #$^#in' #^#@%..." Cid mumbled angrily.

"It'll prevent infection, which would hurt a lot more." Vincent bandaged his other hand. He sighed as he surveyed the damage. "We have to tell someone about this, they can't get away with doing this to you..."

"#^#@, don't Vin...that'll jus' get 'em angrier at me an' they might come after you too..." Cid pulled his hands away and put them on Vincent's shoulders. "I don't $^#%in' want this t'happen t'you..."

"But we can't let them get away with this, we just can't..." Vincent ducked down and began cleaning the bottom of Cid's feet. This was difficult considering that Cid's foot twitched whenever he touched it with the antiseptic. "That wouldn't be right..."

"#$^#..." Cid was wincing at the contact. "#$^#, I came back here...so I'm technically #^#ed already...maybe we should tell someone..."

"Of course we should." Vincent wrapped up his foot in bandages, turning to his other one. "Besides, you can't exactly hide the fact that you got beaten up anyway...everyone's going to know tomorrow...we have to tell someone..."

"#$^#, everyone'll see me come out've here tomorrow too. #$%# 'em." Cid winced again as his other foot was bandaged. Vincent stood back up again, quietly dabbing at Cid's arms.

"This shouldn't be too bad, I shouldn't have to bandage these...these just look like scrapes..."

Cid began shaking again, apparently remembering what had happened. Vincent put his hands on his shoulders again. "Are you going to be okay...?"

Cid turned away from him and slid under the covers, curling up to the wall and shivering. "#$^# 'em all, Vin...I #$^#in' hate 'em all..."

His voice was shaky and hurt. Vincent sat down on the bed as well, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"For this...I hate them too."

He changed for bed and headed back, noting that Cid was still shaking when he came back. He moved underneath the covers, not sure of what to do. He didn't want to touch him, considering what he had been through, but he wasn't sure that his words would be enough to help make him feel better...

His quandary was solved when Cid turned towards him, clutching at him desperately in fright. "I'm sorry, Vin...I don't want t'#$^#in' invade your space or somethin'..."

"It's alright, Highwind..." Vincent put an arm around him quietly, brushing back his hair. "I understand. It never bothered me to begin with..."

"#$^# Vin, I can still see their #$^#in' faces laughin' at me..."

"Shh, don't think about it. You're alright now, you're safe." Vincent found that he could believe his own words more then he thought possible. "You'll be okay now."

"#^#@, I'm sorry, Vin...I'm sorry..." Cid was shaking again.

"It's okay, it's okay, shh." Vincent tried to keep his voice soothing. "Shh, it's okay."

"#$^# Vin, I can't leave you now..." Cid's voice was soft and frightened. "I #$^#in' can't, I can't be alone anymore..."

"Don't worry, Highwind..." Vincent rubbed his back softly. "I won't leave you either. I need you as much as you need me."

Vincent looked up at the ceiling for a moment as Cid's breathing slowed. "I honestly need you just as much as you need me..."

~~~

It felt like no time had passed since Vincent had fallen asleep when something woke him.

His eyes opened slowly and he looked around the room. It was completly dark, meaning that the sun hadn't risen at least...it couldn't have been that late.

A distressed noise reminded him of why he had awoken, and he looked down slightly, finding only soft blond hair brushing against his face. It was Cid...he was shivering.

"Highwind...?" Vincent whispered softly, raising his claw and touching his shoulder. Cid was clutching Vincent desperatly, pressed against his back, trying to hide somehow from something that was tormenting him. No doubt his experience that night had given him nightmares... "Highwind...wake up..."

Another small whimper came from the blonde has he continued to hold onto him, burying his face into Vincent's shoulder and shaking terribly. Vincent pushed himself up on one elbow, turning and shaking Cid's shoulder. "Wake up, Highwind...you're dreaming..."

At the movement of what he believed was protecting him Cid made a short, loud exclamation of surprise and opened his eyes in panic. Vincent put a hand over his mouth and looked over at Cloud, who fortunately had not been disturbed. "Shh!" Cid was breathing quickly and his eyes darted back and forth wildly, apparently remembering where he was. It took a few seconds, but he eventually quieted and Vincent removed his hand.

"Are you alright? You had a nightmare..."

"$@%@..." Cid held his head, closing his eyes in what seemed to be pain. "#$@^...I thought I stopped havin' those..."

"It's alright...what did you dream about?" Vincent looked at Cid's face. "Or maybe you'd rather not talk about it..."

Cid was silent for a while, then fell back onto the pillow, closing his eyes and breathing a heavy sigh. Vincent lay back down as well, brushing some stray strands of his long black hair from his face.

"#$#&, I'm sorry 'bout this, Vin..." Cid kept his hands close to his chest, his voice soft. "#$^#, I do all this #$^#in' #@$^ to you an' you never say anythin'..."

"It's alright, Highwind." Vincent wrapped his arms around himself, not sure of where else to put them. "You don't have to be sorry for anything..."

In the silence that followed, Vincent remained staring at the ceiling, thinking. Cid remained closed off, keeping to himself, a change that Vincent decided must have come from his nightmare. Cid's even breathing made Vincent almost positive that he was asleep. He sighed himself. Without Cid's body as close to his as it had been before, his heat was disappearing quickly...

He banished the thought from his mind and turned his back to Cid, trying to keep his mind clear.

He drifted off into sleep, somewhat uneasy and cold.

~~~

Sunlight woke him up, as it had before. The unexpected warmth on his face made him squint his eyes and try to turn, only to find something blocking his progress.

Cid's head was resting on his neck, his blonde hair intermingling with his black, sleeping quietly. His arm was draped over Vincent, his body curled completely along with his. Apparently during the night he had another change of heart...

The black eye was fading, fortunately, but he still wasn't in good shape. Vincent wasn't sure if he should come with him to class, but he was worried about him...he couldn't miss early classes like this.

He sighed and moved Cid's arm off of him, sitting up and sliding his feet out from underneath the covers. Cid woke blearily, mumbling to himself almost incoherently.

Vincent left the bed to close the blinds, noting on the way that Cloud was already gone. He vaguely wondered where he went, but decided it wasn't really that important.

"Do you think you can go to class today, Highwind...?" Vincent's voice was hesitant and awkward. He didn't really know what to say at the moment...it just felt extremely awkward to him.

"#%@^...don't really got a choice..." Cid's voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Cid slid his own bandaged feet out from underneath the sheets. The bottoms of the bandages were a faint reddish tinge, and Vincent walked over quietly, kneeling. Cid looked down at him.

"That's the thin' I #$^#in' don't understand the most...why the #$^# they #$^# with my feet...I mean, #$^#iin' Christ..."

Vincent turned to the first-aid kit, but found that he had already used most of the bandages. He sighed. "I don't know, Highwind...perhaps they knew how sensitive and important feet are...I don't know."

Vincent stood and walked to where he had left his shoes. He heard the soft sound of feet hitting the carpet of the room, then a sharp hissing. He turned and found Cid sitting on the bed, his feet drawn up near him. He stared at them for a moment, muttering curses under his breath, then turned to Vincent. 

"Vin...I don't think I can #$#^in' walk on these..."

Vincent finished putting on his shoes and sighed. "Are you sure?"

Cid nodded. "#$^#in' feels like #$^#in' fire..."

Vincent thought for a moment. They had to go back to Professor Hojo's class...and he didn't want them to be late...but with Cid in this condition...how were they going to make it...?

"We have to go to the nurse...she'll know what to do..." Vincent rubbed the back of his head. Cid sighed and leaned his head on his hands.

"How?"

Vincent thought for a few moments. "I think I have an idea..."

~~~

Vincent let Cid open the door, considering that his hands were occupied. He was surprisingly light, considering, which made things easier. Fortunately the nurse's office wasn't that far away, so Vincent wouldn't have to carry him far.

However, the journey there was less then easy.

The strident laugh coming from down the hallway made it painfully clear that they were seen.

"Look! Here comes the bride! HA!"

Cid crossed his arms angrily, but didn't say anything, and Vincent tried not to awknowledge her comments. They turned away from her and continued down the hallway, cruel jabs and taunts following their progress.

Vincent wondered just how many people seemed to be out at this time of day, because it seemed like everyone in the entire college had gathered in their dorm just to stare at them. Cid mumbled to himself the entire time, while Vincent tried to keep himself from blushing in embarassment.

They made it to the Nurse's office with nothing worse then a few angry stares and Scarlet's mockery, fortunately. Once inside, Vincent put Cid down on a chair and stretched, his muscles protesting angrily at being worked so hard so early. Cid continued to mumble incoherently to himself as Vincent turned.

"Hi! What are you guys doing here?" Reeve's large eyes stared into Vincent's own and he jumped backwards in surprise. He hadn't even heard him come up.

Vincent opened his mouth to tell him why, then realized what had happened. He paused momentarily, glancing back at Cid who had his arms crossed sullenly. He looked back at Reeve, who had sobered greatly.

"Oooh. I get it. Did the Weapons getcha?"

"The what?" Vincent looked at Reeve, askingly, who didn't turn to look at him, only focusing his eyes towards him.

"The Weapons, man. Big family of guys, all in the college together. Heard 'em talkin' 'bout beatin' someone up last night for ..." Reeve gestured somewhat awkwardly. "You know, but I didn't think it was you..." He then looked thoughtful. "Although actually now that I think about it, you're the only guys that make sense..."

"Who are the Weapons?" Vincent sat down himself, holding his head. Reeve sat down on the floor, his tail whisking back and forth behind his back.

"There's a bunch of 'em, I can't even remember 'em all...there's Emerald, and Ruby, and Diamond..."

"That's them, those #$^#Ers.." Cid finally spoke up. "Four of 'em...#$#@ 'em all."

"Sucks to be you." Reeve brushed one of his hands over his ears absently. "So you're here to get the royal checkup?"

"Actually, that brings to mind another interesting question." Vincent leaned forward. "Why are YOU here, Reeve?"

The change that came over him was extraordinary as he moved his eyes to the carpet and and pawed at the back of his head. "Um...it's awkward, don't talk like about...wait..."

The pawing turned into a repetitive striking. "That's not right, not right..."

"Nevermind." Vincent leaned back, sighing. "It's okay."

It only took a moment for Reeve to turn back to his outgoing self. "Actually, you guys should go ahead of me, I got all day. You got to go to that freak's class, right?"

Vincent and Cid nodded at the same time, an almost identical look of disgust crossing their faces.

"Does anyone need our assistance?" A male called out from behind a door, and Reeve smiled at them.

"Your call. Go for it!"

"Be careful, Reeve." Vincent turned to Cid and slid his arms back underneath his knees and shoulders, lifting him back up easily and carrying him forward. "I think things are getting more dangerous then we thought."

"Don't worry about me." Reeve smiled confidentally at him. "I can take care of myself. You take care of eachother, alright?" Reeve was back in his previous seat in a flash, looking for all the world that he hadn't been talking to anyone.

"Do you have a problem?" The man asked, leading them to a small room with a table. Vincent put Cid down on top of it and stood awkwardly.

"This is Cid Highwind...I'm Vincent Valentine...um..."

Cid didn't mention his bloodied knuckles, the bruises and wounds on his arms, or the bandages over his eye. All he did was lift his foot and point at it. "My feet hurt like a #$^#in' $@^@^."

The man raised an eyebrow for a second. "...right. Well, how did this happen?"

Cid remained completely silent. Not encouraged by his response, Vincent stayed silent as well. The man sighed and shrugged, unwrapping the covering over Cid's wounds. "Alright...whatever."

"Will he be able to walk?" Vincent finally ventured to speak. Cid kept his arms crossed and remained quiet. The man stared at the wounds for a while, then shrugged, looking through a nearby cabinet until he found a bottle. He pulled a cotton swab from within a drawer, moistening it with the substance inside the bottle.

"I suppose...I wouldn't recommend it..."

When the swab touched Cid's foot he jerked back sharply. "#$^#! What the #$^# is that?!"

The man waited until Cid calmed before speaking. "It's supposed to hurt, alright? It'll sting, then the pain should fade."

Vincent put a hand on his shoulder. "Remember?"

Cid winced for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, whatever."

Vincent removed his hand and the man resumed putting the medication on Cid's feet, not noticing how Cid's grip on the edge of the table tightened. Vincent stared at him as Cid tried his best not to show any signs of pain, just the hissing between his teeth and the grip he held on the edge of the table.

"There, that should do it."

"Thank $^#@in' god." Cid released the table, his knuckles white, and brushed a hand through his hair. The man rebandaged Cid's wounded feet and marked off something on a clipboard he was carrying.

"I wouldn't walk on those...hold on for a second." He walked out of the room and returned carrying a pair of crutches. Cid stared at them for a few seconds.

"Hold on a #$^#in' second, I'm not #$^#in' mortally injured, it's just my feet..."

The man handed them to Vincent with a resigned sigh. "Try walking on them, Cid."

It only took a few moments on the ground for him to realize how much pain was still present. "Alright, alright..."

The man seemed to regard Vincent as his protector or guardian or something, because he handed him a sheet of paper from his clipboard. "Keep him off his feet and away from strenous activity...he should be fine."

"Al...alright." Vincent nodded awkwardly and handed the crutches to Cid, who snatched them away irritably, muttering to himself. It took a few moments for him for find his balance, but Cid eventually was able to stand.

"Come back if anything serious happens..." The man walked away, apparently heading back to the waiting room for Reeve. Vincent glanced at a clock on the wall.

"We might be able to make it on time..."

"#@#%, I don't got my backpack or anythin'..."

"Neither do I, but I'm sure we can improvise..." Vincent shrugged and began walking, waiting for Cid to follow. "It shouldn't be that bad."

~~~

It took quite a few tries until Cid was able to walk at a steady pace, taking longer then both intended. When they had finally made it to class, it was almost as late as it had been when they had gotten there the first day.

"Ready, Vin?"

"I suppose..."

Vincent opened the door. The class instantly quieted at the sight of the two, Prof. Hojo turning from something he had been explaining on the overhead. He noted them with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, then finally settled on amusement. In the awkward silence that followed, the two entered the class, Cid's crutches making painfully loud noises. Both were waiting for the comment that they were sure Hojo would make.

It didn't take long until his cold, calculating voice reached them.

"Late again, I see...rough night, Cid?"

Vincent felt his claw clutching out of his control. Cid refused to look at Hojo, only muttering angrily underneath his breath. "@#@% you."

Vincent wasn't sure if Hojo had heard him or not, but he apparently wasn't finished with them yet. "Did you sustain some kind of...lower back injury?"

There were quiet giggles from within the ranks of the class, and Vincent could see Cid shaking with rage, still unable to say anything.

"We're sorry, Professor." Vincent felt anything if sorry, wishing that he didn't have to prolong the moment any longer then necessary, but he felt that perhaps an apology would make Hojo stop his assault...

"I suppose you are." The cold tone was back into his voice. "Despite whatever activites happen at night, I do expect people to arrive here on time."

Cid's shaking was interfering with his ability to move, and when he turned to head to the back of the room, one of the crutches caught on the step leading upwards. He gave a surprised noise as his support gave out, trying to keep his balance in vain. Vincent was at his side at an instant, catching him and stopping his descent to the floor. The giggles from the rest of the class increased as Vincent looked on the floor for the missing crutch. He could feel Cid trembling through the arm that rested across his shoulder. Turning slightly, he found Hojo standing next to him, holding the crutch in his hands.

"You should be more careful, Cid..." The cruel tone was back in his voice. "Some people don't want you to be hurt."

"Too #$^#in' bad you're not one of 'em, you #^#@..." Cid mumbled almost inaudibly underneath his breath. Vincent took the crutch and gave it back to him. Cid took it angrily, taking a bit more care in making his way to the seat in the back. The whispering and giggling had increased again, and Vincent found himself wishing that he had never left the comfort of his bed and Cid this morning...

He shook his head, wondering for a moment why including Cid had been so automatic, then decided not to think about it. 


	7. Argument

He slid into his seat, sighing softly as Cid struggled near him to get into his own. Although he was having difficulty, Vincent had a feeling that Cid wanted to do this by himself, and he was most likely correct.

However, this did not go unnoticed.

"Having some trouble, are we?" The cold voice from the front of the class came to them. "Why don't you ask for help?"

Cid finally got into the seat with a jerk then crossed his arms, this time speaking loud enough to be heard. "Because I don't #$^#in' need help."

Fortunatly, Prof. Hojo decided to leave it at that and return to what he had previously been explaining on the overhead. Vincent found himself automatically leaning to one side to get paper out of his backpack when he realized he didn't have it with him. He sighed softly and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands as the professor's tone became a meaningless drone. 

He knew he should be paying more attention, but his voice was blurring away as he found what his mind apparently deemed more important thoughts coming to mind. He glanced over at Cid, who had his head propped up by one hand and was tapping the other impatiently on the desktop. Vincent could still see the bandages that wrapped around Cid's knuckles and the dark bruises from what had happened the night before.

The world in front of him blurred slightly, and he knew that to be the signal that began his daydreams. It wasn't as if the world in front of him completely disappeared, it simply blurred as he didn't focus on it anymore. He stared forward at some point beyond the room, and everything became indisctinct, even sound as Prof. Hojo continued to speak about emotions and different viewpoints on things.  
Typically this mental state was reserved for daydreams, but now he was just thinking. He let his mind wander and found it dwelling on something that had taken up most of his thoughts ever since he had began here.

Cid Highwind.

He was worried that Cid may get attacked again...he was fairly sure that the Weapons weren't in this class, so that was a relief. But what if they were in one of his other classes...? And he knew that he couldn't be with Highwind forever...

A startling thought came to him. He was also a target...what if the Weapons came for him? Despite their similiarity of body type, he could tell that Cid was much stronger, or at least more skilled, then he was...and even he had not fared well against the Weapons...what chance could he have if they came after HIM?

He didn't want to think about that...he'd just have to be careful, that's all...his thoughts wandered to Reeve, and he mentally added him in as well...he'd have make sure that Reeve was safe as well...he didn't want anyone getting hurt because of him...

He wondered what Highwind would be doing after class...he had to stay a night in his own room once, so he couldn't go back with him...and it was the middle of the day anyway, so there was a lot of time. Surely Highwind didn't want to spend the entire time with HIM, did he? Personally, Vincent could not see why he was so interesting, or why Cid seemed to think he was. All he really did was draw, or watch TV, and talk...

Maybe that's why Highwind stayed with him, because his activities weren't strenous or demanding, and that he felt more in control...

Vincent felt a sigh escape him. He felt so weak most of the time...not that he hadn't before. In almost all of his previous relationships, the power had been located elsewhere. He had always been told where to go, what to do, almost what to say, and his opinion had almost always been meaningless...he thought that maybe in college he could escape such suffocating relationships...

It was true that their friendship was not like that, but still Vincent felt weak. He didn't feel as though he could stand up for himself, or what he wanted, or anything like that. Why? He didn't know.

He felt the age-old pangs of depression creeping up into him again. It had vanished for a short time, but again made itself known. Why did he even associate with other people? All they wanted to do was control him, or own him, and then again, why didn't he live alone? Because being alone was worse, and some part of him must have liked being controlled...or maybe because he didn't know how to live unless someone told him how...

Why, why...why was he even here? He had no focus, no direction...he didn't know where he was going, or what he was doing...he didn't know what he was going to major in...everyone wanted him to major in art, but he didn't want to do that...he didn't feel that his art was good enough for it anyway, considering...everyone always said it was too dark, or frightening, or morbid, or too simple...he couldn't imagine drawing his little sketches for money...he couldn't imagine anyone paying money for one of his pathetic drawings...

His one talent he felt was worthless...and now here he was, in his Studies of Human Emotion through Literature class with a teacher who hated him, trying to pay attention and failing miserably, and he didn't even know why he was here. Why was he here? He didn't know anymore...

He had no focus, he didn't know what he wanted to do. He was stalling, wasting time, until the decision finally would come, and he'd have to say that he did not know what he wanted to do. How could he say that, though? His parents were so proud of him, they pushed him, they wanted him to do art, but how could he say how he felt about it? They didn't understand his art, they never did...and they were pressuring him to become an art major, and he didn't want to be an art major...

Why, why, why did they think he could do this? Why did they think he was...he was mature enough to handle this kind of responsibility?

He didn't want to be here anymore, he wanted to hide somewhere.

He recalled words he heard somewhere...

"Why do you want to GO to college anyway?"

"'Cause that's what you do after high school!" In a frantic, panicked voice...

How he related...he knew this was supposed to be the next step, but there was nowhere to go from here...and he didn't even know how to keep his balance on this step anyway...

He didn't want to be an art major, he didn't want to be here...he didn't want to have to continue living his life, making decisions and moving closer and closer to death with every breath...he didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't want to have to think of his life after this, meaningless repetition of tasks for money for things that he didn't need, but wanted to try and make his life mean something...

Why was he still doing this...why...

Why hadn't he died years ago...why was he still here...? Why were they making him continue to play out this meaningless charade of life, this life that was so empty and cold? A life with no purpose, no light, nothing...why did he have to play along?

Why...

Something touched his shoulder, and he jerked involuntarily. He realized with a start that his head had eventually sunk until it was buried in his arms. He looked up, then looked to one side to see Cid's sky-blue eyes staring into his own.

"Vin? Vin, are you okay?" His voice was whispered. Fortunately, now that he had returned back to the world, Vincent could still hear Prof. Hojo's voice droning on. So he hadn't heard or noticed...good...

Vincent sighed softly, not sure of what to say. How could he tell Cid how he felt? How could he say that he didn't want to be here, to pretend to be something he wasn't, to do what other people told him to do...how could he tell him that he never felt free, that he was forever imprisoned in this life that seemed so preordained? How could he tell Cid that he hated his art, hated his artwork, hated his predetermined major, and hated doing this? How could he tell Cid that...that he never wanted this...

He couldn't...he just couldn't...

Vincent turned his eyes to one side, unable to stare at those eyes, which radiated such concern that he felt was so undeserved. Cid had gotten hurt because of him, because of his presence...this was his fault, why was he still here...

He couldn't tell him...

"It's nothing..." He mumbled, not sure if Cid even heard him. Apparently, he did.

"The #^#$ it's nothin'." Cid's voice carried an undercurrent of annoyance. "C'mon, Vin, you can tell me. We're friends."

"No..." Vincent kept his eyes averted and even turned his head away, keeping his chin on his arms. "No, it's alright, it's nothing. I'm fine..."

"#$^# Vin, don't do this."

Vincent didn't reply, and he heard Cid slide back from where he was leaning across his desk with an annoyed noise. Vincent felt his heart hurting, and he blamed himself. Why didn't he tell him?

He couldn't...he didn't want to put that kind of burden on him. He could never tell him, he couldn't. He couldn't give Cid that kind of burden to bear along with his own...he didn't want to pressure him or make him carry his problems for him...he had lived with his own problems for ages. He had dealt with things by himself for almost his entire life, and he knew that he could do so now, if the need be.

And he needed to do this himself. He could never depend on other people, he could never do that. He couldn't, he had tried it before and it had failed. In the end, he was always alone, he knew that. And he had to deal with this by himself. He didn't want to drag Cid into his own emotional morass...

He felt another tap on his shoulder, and he looked up. Cid was balanced on his crutches, looking down at him with concern. "Vin, c'mon. Class's over. Didn't you hear?"

Vincent straightened up slightly, keeping his eyes down as he stared at his pale arms, now slowly letting the blood flow back into them after being kept motionless for so long. He looked up slowly.  
"That seemed very fast..."

"That's 'cause you weren't payin' any #$^#in' attention, Vin." Cid tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. Vincent looked up at him, worried, and found that Cid seemed different. He had something on his mind, something that was bothering him, he could tell. His laugh was different, and all of his body language. "C'mon, let's go."

Vincent pushed himself off the desk and found that he actually did seem to need the desks assistance, oddly enough. He looked down, expecting to see his backpack, but remembered that he didn't have it with him. Feeling strange, he walked along with Cid out of the classroom. Cid wasn't talking as much as he usually did, and he seemed to be focusing more on the crutches, as he didn't stumble at all.

"I hope you two payed attention during today's lecture, as I notice you had no paper on which to take notes." Hojo's voice came behind them, but Vincent didn't even bother to turn around. Neither, he noticed, did Cid.

The two of them left the room, letting the door close behind them. They walked in silence for a while, the uneven sound of Cid's crutches hitting the ground contrasting with Vincent's quiet light steps. There was a silence, which was uncommon for them, and they both knew it.

"Alright, #$^#, that's it." Cid turned his head towards Vincent, who didn't look at him. "What the #$^# is wrong?"

"Nothing." Vincent felt an edge of anger in his voice. Why didn't Cid believe him? Why didn't he just drop it? Didn't he realize that he didn't want to tell him for his own sake? That he was doing this for him?

"The #$^#in' #$^# it's nothin'!" Cid's voice raised. "What the #$^#, last night-"

"Look, I just don't want to talk about it." Vincent looked away from Cid, focusing on the lockers as they went by. Annoyance and guilt kept building up in from keeping this away from him.

"Why the #$^# not?" Cid was angry now. "I #$^#in' tell you what bothers ME! Why won't you tell me? What the #$^#'s botherin' you?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"Then what, Vin? What the #$^# then? What are you goin' to do? Are we just goin' to pretend that nothin's wrong, jus' like my parents? Jus' go along pretendin' that we're all fine and #$^#in' dandy and inside you're dyin'?" Cid stopped walking, glaring angrily through misty eyes. "I #$%@in' won't let that happen, Vin, I #$^#in' hated them for that and I still #$^#in' hate 'em 'cause they won't stop. For $#^#'s sake, Vin, what's wrong?"

"Highwind, listen!" Vincent stopped and turned, wishing he had his backpack on so that he could do something with the straps, grasp them, anything. His claw was twitching terribly as a result of the emotional stress he was under. "There's nothing wrong, I'm fine, okay?"

"The #$^# you are! I don't #$^#in' believe you!"

"Fine!" The word tore from Vincent with a mixture of anger and sadness. He whirled away and began running down the hallway. "Don't believe me! It's better that way! You don't want to know!"

"Vin, come back! Wait!"

"Stay away from me!" Vincent hit the door to the hall with a loud crash, sending the doors into the opposite walls as he ran outside. His claw was clenching terribly, metal scraping against metal, as he ran across the road outside, not sure of where to go. He had to get away, he just had to be alone. He had to go somewhere where he could think. He had to go somewhere...anywhere...

"Vin!" He could hear Cid's voice behind him, and he knew that he couldn't turn back. He chose a direction and began running, not sure of where he was going or what he was trying to do. As the wind rushed by him, he felt a sudden sharp coolness on his face, and found that he was crying.

~~~

"Mother#@%#!" Cid finally made it through the doors, only to see the glimpse of black as Vincent took off running in another direction. He sighed deeply and then collapsed on a nearby bench.

Mother#$%#in' god#$^# piece of ^$#^ crutches, if he hadn't had these then he would've been able to catch Vin no problem. Piece of mother#$#^in' #$^#.

"God#^$# it..." He mumbled to himself as he tried to catch his breath. Why had Vincent ran out like that...? He knew he was upset, he could tell in class. Vincent's face seemed to dissolve from the face he had known into this terrible emotionless mask, and his head just sank slowly until he couldn't even see his face anymore. Of course, Vin was full of #$#^ when he said nothing was wrong. Why was he trying to hide it? Why was he upset...?

Why would he be trying to hide something from him? He thought they were friends...

Cid leaned his head back and stared at the sky above him, watching small clouds go by as he tried to organize his thoughts. His feet were throbbing angrily, as were his knuckles and the cut over his eye, although he hadn't told anyone that. It would only be for a few moments anyway.

He thought he and Vincent were friends. Friends don't hide things from each other, do they? He sighed. But then again, in almost all of the previous friendships he had, there had been something hidden. He wasn't innocent either, he hid things from others as well. But it seemed that others never told him things because they didn't think he could handle it, or they didn't want to bother him. He usually told other people when they were bothering him, or would casually refer to it in conversation as something that annoyed him, but with most of his other friends, they acted as if nothing was wrong. They didn't even talk about it or mention it like he did. They acted as if it was perfect, as if they were fine, as if nothing was wrong. Cid hated that. He was their friend, he would be there for them through rain or shine, even if they were being a whiny #$^#% about something or wanted to cry. He was supposed to be there for them even through their worst times. But they didn't want to show him their worst time, they just wanted to be happy for him all the time.

He hated that, he hated it. He wasn't some god#$^# kid, he could handle it. He could handle having friends depressed or upset over stupid #$^#, but they never seemed to think so.

God#$^# it, no one depended on HIM. He #$@#in' hated that.  
He sighed, wishing more then ever that he had a cigarette. God #$^@.

He looked back up, hoping that maybe Vincent had come back, but found the streets still deserted. Considering that was the only class he had with him, that meant he might not even see him again today. Mother#$^#.

He slowly got back up on his crutches and thought. He still had other classes to go to...should he go after Vincent?

No...Vincent seemed pretty intent on running away from him. Cid felt a sick bitterness overtake him, something that he hadn't felt in a while. He felt the slight shock of the crutches hitting the ground he headed back to his own dorm. No, Vincent apparently didn't think Cid was mature enough or old enough to deal with someone who wasn't happy all the time. He didn't trust him.

#$^#...

He found that thought more depressing then ever, and he felt his fingers itching for a keyboard. He had to get something out, quickly...

He walked back to his dorm, ignoring the jibes and taunts he got from others, although they were reduced in number due to Vincent's absence. Cid found he missed the taller youth's presence near him, his quiet voice, and how he laughed just slightly at all of his stupid jokes. God#$^# it, why did he have to do this to him? Didn't he know how much this hurt?

#@#%...

Cid angrily clenched his fists around the crutches handgrip. #$^# it. #$^# everyone. He had been alone this far. People had hit him or abused him, and he had been alone for all of his life. And of course, just when he thought he wasn't he #$^#in' was. Just the kind of trick life LOVED to play on him. #$^# it. #$^# everyone. He was so #^#@in' tired of this. Fine, he'd be alone again. He'd be alone, if life was so god#$#^ set on making him that way.

Although his thoughts were furious, he found a slight melancholy beneath them. For those few nights, for once, he had felt alive, he hadn't been alone...he thought for once life wouldn't be playing a cruel trick on him, for once that he would truly have a chance to be happy after life had #$^#ed him over several times...but it was just another #$^#in' prank...

Cid sighed deeply. He could really use a cigarette.

~~~

Vincent hid for a while, not sure of what to do. He was fairly sure that Cid wouldn't have followed him...not with those crutches...

He had wandered aimlessly for a long time, thoughts of his life, his art, his parents, and Cid running in endless loops through his brain. Had he done the right thing? Shouldn't he have told Cid something...?

He shook his head. No...no, it was better if no one knew. It was better, no one would ask him questions. It'd be better, things would be like they were before. He didn't want to ruin things with his stupid self-doubt...

He wandered for what seemed like a long time and found that his classes began soon. Not sure of what to expect, he headed back to his dormroom to find no one was there. More depressed then surprised, he didn't even find a note. Not that he had expected one. He grabbed his backpack and headed back out of the room.

What would he have done if Cid was waiting for him? He didn't know...probably ran like a coward again. At this rate he'd always be running from him...he didn't want to do that...but what else could he do?

He shouldn't have ran in the first place...now he had doomed himself to a never ending circle of running away. He should have known he would have done something like this...

Classes that day were meaningless, repetitive...he took notes as required, but found that his heart and mind were somewhere else. He barely heard anything that was said, particularly during his art class. He doodled around the margins of his page, sketches of the characters from Cid's story, sketches of himself, demon-winged, bleeding and alone. He was a demon, why was he doing this...

He knew he must be hurting Cid by doing this kind of thing to him, but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't confront him now, he couldn't...he had ruined things, just like he had with his other relationships...this was why no one could ever get close to him. God...

His papers were filled with the dark demons, falling, dying, bleeding, and his own self-hatred. How could he have done this? What could he do...

He walked back to his dorm in the twilight, the feeling of all-encompassing depression sweeping over him. He knew this well, he had felt it for years. What fool desire had made him think that he could escape it here...?

How could he have done this...he should have said something. But no, he'd rather have broken off their relationship this way then have Cid recoil with distaste, or think that he was foolish, or stupid...

But he had never thought of him that way before...

But everyone else had.

He slipped his key into his lock and entered his room, finding Cloud gone again. No surprise. He put his bag down near the bed and sat down at his chair, staring at the ceiling as if hoping it would give him some advice. Finding nothing coming, he turned to his computer, dark and silent. Curious, he decided to go and read Cid's story again, to refresh it in his memory...

The page loaded up, off-white on black, and the familiarity of it reminded Vincent of Cid's first visit...and how embarassed he was over Vincent reading his work. Why? It was so good...

He found that it had been updated, a few hours ago, actually. Curious, but half-apprehensive, he scanned through the story until he came to where he had left off.

He could recognize the main character, Eiyon, was meant to represent Cid, although the two were essentially different in many ways. His mind creating the imagery to go with the words, he found Eiyon meeting up with someone, another winged creature, this one's name being Lyzndr. Although Eiyon could not fly, Lyzndr didn't seem to care, and they became friends. From the description, Vincent could tell that Lyzndr was somewhat based on him. They acted and spoke the same way, and many of their conversations mirrored his and Cid's.

That is, until the two of them were abandoned together. Lyzndr and Eiyon were cast out, and found themselves relying on eachother more then ever...and...

He found himself saying the words outloud, almost against his will, whispering to himself as his scarlet eyes ran over the off-white letters.

"Although he could not fly, he had found something else that gave his life meaning...his lips...his lips...met...with Lyzndr's...."

He paused on that line for a long time, not sure what it meant...had he written this now? Why would he write that today? After what had happened...didn't Cid hate him now? Why, why would he write something like this? He didn't understand...he thought that they were friends, but Cid wanted...this couldn't be right...

He leaned back and pushed his claw into his hair, forcing his thoughts to stop. He had to remember, these were characters. He wasn't Lyzndr, although they were similar. Eiyon was not Cid. This could mean nothing, Cid could have just thought it was a good idea. This didn't mean anything...it didn't mean anything...

He closed the file, not sure of what to do. How was he supposed to react to that...? Did that mean that Cid was not upset? That Cid didn't hate him for running away...? That things would be okay...?

He couldn't have such high hopes for himself...he knew deep in his heart that nothing would ever be okay, as long as it concerned him, he knew that nothing could be right, as long as he was involved. He closed the browser and crawled onto his bed, sprawling on the unmade sheets, letting his arms and legs flair out as he stared upwards. He felt as if something was crushing him...all this pressure that he could not deal with was crashing down on him, and now this...

He couldn't deal with this...

He turned onto his stomach, putting his hands above his head, on his neck, and closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep so that the real world would disappear for a few more moments, a few hours, a few minutes, so he could think of what he had to do...

So he could try and organize his life, so that he could find out which meaningless pattern would allow him to continue...

He felt his breath catch in his throat once, and something warm fall from his eyes, and he wished that he didn't have to do this. He wished he could stop hiding, but the metal against his neck and the doubt and hatred he had in his heart told him that he could never, ever stop hiding, from himself or from everyone else.

~~~

Cid sat in his room, fortunately alone. Reno had gone out somewhere with his friends, leaving the blond by himself. As soon as he had the room to himself, he had gone into his storage of cigarettes, and smoked until he began to find it hard to breathe. Finding no solace in it, he sat down at the computer and began to write, trying to find a way to work out his feelings or his thoughts into a clear form.

As he wrote for Eiyon and Lyzndr, he felt tears falling down his face that he rubbed away angrily, the bandages across his knuckles scraping against his skin angrily. Fortunately the bandages didn't impede his hands progress across the keyboard.

Envy filled him as he watched the two of them, sharing their lives and thoughts and love freely. He envied them deeply. Eiyon, although he couldn't even fly, was happier then he could ever be, now that Lyzndr had told him everything. Why couldn't real people do this? Why couldn't he ever have any real relationships that worked this perfectly?

Why couldn't he live in his own stories?

He rarely cried while writing, but he normally felt pangs of emotion as he tried to write things that had hurt him, or scenes that affected him. He had cried before. As he continued writing for the two, watching as they supported eachother, even though everyone else had ostracized them, he envied them so deeply that he felt his heart seemed to burn. Why couldn't he be happy? Was there some kind of conspiracy against him, or some horrible flaw with his personality that made all his friendships end in such horrible ways?

He wanted to get drunk, he wanted to do something so that he didn't have to think of anything. Even writing hadn't given him any solace, as all it did was reflect his deepest desires back to him and show him just how unattainable they were.

He had his hair pushed back by another pair of goggles, and another pack of cigarettes carefully stowed away in the band. Unable to stay at the computer any longer, he got up and left the room, not sure of what he wanted to do. He couldn't stay here and let his mind torment him...he had to go somewhere and get his mind off of the trouble that he was in, and find some way that he could stop thinking about what had happened between him and Vincent...

He shut the door behind him, hearing it click softly. He still didn't understand...

He shoved his hands in his pockets angrily and walked down the hallway, wishing beyond anything on earth that he could be Eiyon. 


	8. Room Search

Vincent spent the rest of the day in his room. He didn't want to go outside and risk meeting with Cid again, not wanting to have to confront and explain something that he truly could not. He didn't want to do anything...his body seemed to have shut down, and everything just seemed so far away and so pointless.

His work that was due tomorrow didn't seem important or even remotely doable. The words that he understood before now seemed to be written in another language, and he wasn't sure why. He stared at his books that he managed to pull out of his bag when he made mustered the energy to move, and found nothing comprehensible. Even the pictures for his art assignment due tomorrow meant nothing, and he couldn't muster the energy to try and interpret the paintings. He certainly could not find the energy to try and find some hidden meaning behind everything that his teacher had told him to find. He had eventually pushed the books off his bed in disgust and simply lay there, unable to think or do anything. He didn't WANT to think or do anything at all...

Nothing seemed to matter to him...nothing really seemed important. He didn't even understand why he was here, in college. What was the point? Oh, it was easy to ignore, to push it behind him, whenever things got too complicated, to give pre-thought response to questions he got far too often, but when he thought about it, he could find nothing...

He didn't know what he was doing, why he was here...he wasn't even sure that he wanted to continue living, if it held such emptiness as he had just experienced...

His claw felt heavy and leaden, and he could barely muster the effort to lift and place it back down again, feeling the inexorable sinking feeling sweeping over him again and again, in neverending waves of depression. Such movement was as pointless as breathing, as anything...

He lay on his bed, staring blankly forward, thinking nothing except self-doubt as to why he was even here and seeing nothing. He longed for something to come and give meaning to his life, but he didn't know where to find it, or what it was, or even if he COULD locate such a thing. He didn't know what he could do, he didn't know why he should even try to do anything. Knowing his luck, there was no such thing that could ever give his life meaning. Nothing meant anything.

His eyes grew so acclimated to the dark that he didn't notice as the sun set, and the room around him turned black. He didn't wonder or even feel concerned for the fact that his roommate had not returned, and he did not look at the clock hear his bed. He didn't see how the hours ticked by with him staring, just staring into the darkness and having it stare back, asking him the same question over and over. Why.

Vincent eventually fell asleep, even his own mind not able to stave off exhaustion for long. His scarlet eyes closed, and he slipped into slumber, not caring or worrying over his unfinished homework or unreturned calls. He just wanted to disappear, and he depended on sleep to do this for him.

It had always been a respite for him.

~~~

Cid was restless for most of the night. He called Reeve several times, despite Reeve's constant statements of not being able to come over or let him go over there due to work, and paced around the room often. He finished his homework quickly and carelessly and surfed the web, avoiding his own site and his own story, for fear of what else he may write and how much further he might depress himself. The nervous energy he had now was better then the listlessness and hopelessness he felt before.

He checked his mail, finding the usual demanding emails asking him when he'd update, and found his replies to them more curt and aggressive then he intended.

It was only when he went outside and found a Talent Show, being held the day after tomorrow, that he realized how he could apologize. He removed the poster from the wall roughly, leaving the corners, and returned to his room, a smile on his face.

But he had to get through tomorrow to get to the day after...could he wait that long?

The poster had given him hope. He would at least go visit Vincent at his room tomorrow, if nothing else. Just to say hello, or get notes, or something along those lines. He doubted that Vincent would even open the door, but he wanted to make the effort. Even if, in the end, he'd just ask Vincent to come to the show in a few days.

That way, things would be better.

If he believed that, he was certain that they would.

~~~

Vincent fell asleep that night uneasily, his rest tormented by nightmares that he thought he had stopped having. Winged creatures flitted back and forth, blood, death...and the horrific screeching, the bang noise, and the nothing after that. He hated these dreams, but he didn't know what to do about them. He had never been able to control his dreams, nor be able to identify them as dreams or, as they had been more often then not, nightmares. He simply had to suffer through them until his body woke him, frightened and shaky.

This time the banging noise insisted, and he pushed himself out of bed, groggy and confused. He touched his claw to his forehead, metal shocking him more to the conscious world, as he tried to focus his scarlet eyes. He could see Cloud moving towards the door, also groggy and confused. He wondered what time it was, but didn't have a clock nearby to tell.

He rubbed his head and slid his feet out from underneath the covers, the cold air a shock to them, as he heard Cloud open the door. He stood and turned in time to see Cloud take a step back, his face caught much in the same manner as a deer caught in headlights. This woke Vincent more fully, and he looked at the doorway to try and see what had caused such a strange and unknown reaction.

Standing in the doorway were three people, one of them smirking and already making their way into the room. He knew that look well, the malevolent glint from their glasses and that smirk.

"We're searching this room." That voice penetrated Vincent's thoughts, but he didn't fully comprehend what it meant. Confused, he looked at Cloud, who was closing and opening his mouth as if expecting there to be words coming out.

"B..but I...I haven't...there's nothing...nothing in here..."

Prof. Hojo moved to the center of the room, standing with his arms crossed. The two behind him took their places on either side, both female. Vincent inclined his head slightly. They both looked somewhat familiar, but he didn't know where he had seen them before. They were probably members of the staff or something.

"Shera, take that side of the room. Lucrecia, take his." Hojo looked sidelong at Vincent before turning towards the wall that held their closets. "I'll take care of this."

"Wait, you can't, you c-can't do this..." Cloud was shaking now, visibly frightened. Vincent wasn't sure why he was so frightened, and now that he thought about it, why their room was even being searched.

He struggled to think, and found one of the woman tearing into his desk, looking in, around, and under things with reckless abandon.

"Hey..." He protested feebly, but found they didn't even hear him. He suddenly felt extremely violated, even more so when he turned and noticed Prof. Hojo pulling out all of his clothes, all of which were black or grey, out of his drawers.

He found himself backing out of the room unconsciously, not sure of what to do. He felt himself colliding with someone else, and jerked away sharply, finding himself shaking slightly.

He found a soft, warm smile greeting him, and he felt somewhat suspicious, but better then he would have otherwise. It looked very much in place on the kindly face in front of him, framed with black hair that spiked around at angles that were almost as insane as Clouds. The youth was the same height as he was, dressed mainly in greys or blacks, but seemed stronger and more easy-going. He could read it in in his body language as he leaned against the doorframe, smiling, but also radiating concern as Cloud eventually also found his way outside.

"I told you, but you never listen to me..." His voice was pleasant and warm, even though he sounded mocking. Cloud looked at him with desperation that was quickly hid.

"Shut up, Zack, how was I supposed to know this would happen?"

Zack turned and leaned his back on the side of the door and put his hands behind his head, casting his eyes upwards. "It's not MY fault that you got caught. I toooold you to be more careful...I mean, honestly."

Cloud turned and leaned against the taller male, crossing his arms and sulking moodily, casting dark looks at Vincent while doing so. "I don't need to hear this right now."

Zack rolled his eyes and mimicked Cloud's voice. "Wah wah, not right now, wah wah, I'm wrong, wah wah wah..."

Cloud made an annoyed noise, but didn't comment further, heaving an annoyed breath and remaining as he was, leaned against Zack. The black-haired male was apparently strong enough to support him in this way.

Vincent, not sure of what to do, looked back in the room, finding Prof. Hojo pulling the wires from the TV and pulling the batteries out of his walkman, inspecting the empty cavity before tossing the opened device back on the desk. Shera was pulling down Cloud's motorcycle posters, inspecting the tape, the back, and the wall itself, even running her fingers down the exposed cinderblocks. Lucrecia was rummaging through Vincent's drawers, and moving up to his books.

"How long are they going to do this...?" Vincent felt worse, more open, the more they looked around his posessions. The same ugly sensation he felt when the others had been staring at him in class was coming back, and he felt somewhat sick.

Someone collided into his back, and he again jerked away sharply with a gasp, turning to see who had run into him this time.

Cid's eyes were concerned and worried, and unlike Zack's seemingly calm exterior, Cid looked frazzled. "Holy mother %^#%, Vin, what the #$^#'s goin' on?"

Vincent wasn't sure what to do. The previous events of the last day ran through his mind, and he didn't know what to say. Eventually, words escaped him although he didn't intend them to. "They're searching my room!"

He sounded more distressed then he intended and he turned away and hugged his arms, not sure of what to say. Now that he was here, what could he do...? He couldn't very well run away now...but he still couldn't face him. He still couldn't explain himself. What was he supposed to do?

When he turned, he found Cid was clinging to the doorframe as well. "#$^#. Why th' #$^# they doin' your room? That doesn't make any sense. #$^#."

"Ah!"

The sharp sound caught everyone's attention, and instantly four heads crowded near the doorway. Vincent could feel Zack's hairspikes brushing against the side of his face, almost the same shade as his own. Beneath him he could sense Cloud and Cid, both looking in worry.

Lucrecia walked into the center of the room, carrying a bottle by her fingertips, as if worried about contaminating it.

"@#^%!"

Cid's obscenity suddenly jogged Vincent's memory, and he recalled that night Cid had spent with him, completely drunk, and he had taken the bottle away and put it behind some of his books to get rid of later...and he had completely forgotten about it. Panic seized Vincent suddenly, and he found his hands gripping the back of Cid's shirt convulsively.

"Ah, so what do we have here?" Prof. Hojo stepped off of the chair he was using to examine the light fixtures and adjusted his glasses, smiling. Shera moved off of Cloud's bed, joining his side, shaking her head and making disapproving noises. "Hmm."

He took it himself, holding the bottle with what seemed to be completely misplaced care, and he turned to the four in the doorway, each with almost the same expression of terror. "May I ask who this belongs to?"

"It's not mine!" Cloud's panicked voice broke the silence first. Vincent was seized with panic. He couldn't say it was Cid's, that would get him into trouble, but if he said it was his, then...

"It was found on your desk, Vincent." Hojo's sharp eyes seemed to stab into Vincent's own, and he felt sick again. "Care to explain?"

Cid backed out of the huddle sharply, thudding his fist against the wall in anger. "#$^#!"

Unintentionally, this did more then he thought. From the light fixture that Prof. Hojo had just unscrewed, several small bags fell free, each filled with a vague, whitish powder. They landed and bounced off of Hojo's head almost comically, where they landed on the floor with soft noises. Shera knelt and examined them, holding her head and making worried noises, while Lucrecia put a thin hand over her mouth to conceal her amusement.

Vincent's mouth hung open, as did everyone else's in the doorway, including Cid who had looked back into the room.

There was an awkward silence for some time, then finally Vincent felt words escaping him without thought. "Those....those aren't mine."

Hojo looked overly-thoughtful and shook his head in a mock-concerned way. "Of course they aren't yours, someone planted them, am I right? You're all innocent little boys here, right?"

Zack whispered through his teeth. "In the LIGHT? Jesus..."

Cloud's response was panicky. "I didn't think...honestly I..."

"Well, let's put these aside for now and resume our little search, hmm?" Hojo put the objects on the desk. "It seems to be having such fruitful results."

"Vin, Vin, that bottle, it's-" Cid jerked on Vincent's sleeve urgently, hissing. Vincent cut him off, his voice soft.

"Don't say anything."

The three resumed searching the room, this time Lucrecia spending more time with Vincent's desk. Since nothing else was to be found there, she began to look underneath his bed, while Shera herself began to examine Cloud's desk and shelves. Hojo began to pull through Cloud's closet, tossing out the items onto the floor as they left his careful hands.

"#$^#." Cid mumbled under his breath. Zack sighed deeply and put a hand to his head.

"Last thing we need right now..."

"What's this?" Lucrecia withdrew from underneath the bed, holding a small stuff animal. It was a small bat with a happy expression, no bigger then her hand, with big floppy wings. She stared at it in confusion, not noticing Vincent blushing brightly.

"Oh, don't touch him!"

Vincent moved into the room and pulled the bat from her hands with concern. He felt eyes boring into him, and he blushed terribly as he tried to explain in a soft voice. "Um...his name's Mordakai...I've had him forever..."

Hojo plucked the toy from Vincent's hands, examining it carefully, squeezing it, then finally putting it back in Vincent's hands. "Still sleeping with animals? That seems rather immature."

"I don't sleep with Mordakai." Vincent replied indignantly. He held the bat to his chest, where it seemed to fit perfectly. "I just feel better having him around, that's all."

Hojo stared at him levelly, then shrugged his shoulders, going back to the closet. "Very immature."

Vincent, feeling awkward but not sure of what to do, put the bat into his pocket, blushing terribly as he shuffled back out of the room. Zack was staring at him with an amused grin, but both Cid and Cloud looked confused.

Feeling as if he should explain himself further, Vincent looked down and rubbed his arm, leaning against the wall awkwardly as he tried to think of what to say. "I...got him when I was really little..."

No one really responded, and Vincent felt worse then ever. Although, the presence of the small bat in his pocket actually made him feel better.

It took some time for the room search to finally conclude, considering how many pairs of cargo pants both Cloud and Vincent had between them, and how ALL of the pockets had to be emptied. During the search more small bags were found, almost all of which in Cloud's closet or his clothes, and even a small bottle filled with unknown pills. These were gathered into a pile, which none of them knew how to deal with.

"Now, anyone care to explain this?" Hojo pointed towards the pile with a thin hand, smiling.

Deciding that he was never going to be able to get off clean with this many things found in the room, Vincent decided he might as well tell the truth. "The bottle..."

He caught Cid's eyes for a moment, but struggled to ignore them. "The bottle is mine."

"Mmhmm." Hojo gestured to Shera, who was writing on a clipboard while tsking. "What about these?" He waved a hand towards the remaining pile, with the pills and powders.

Vincent shook his head. "Those aren't mine."

"Well then, who do they belong to?"

Zack whistled nonchalantly and kicked Cloud roughly. Cloud jerked forward and glared angrily at Zack, who was staring at him. The two stared at each for some time, before Cloud finally sighed and resigned himself.

"...They're mine..."

Hojo gestured again to Shera, who shook her head sadly as her pen made quick, scritching notes. The professor moved forward, smiling in a way that made Vincent extremely uncomfortable. Leaning in close to the two roommates, his voice was chilling and quiet.

"DO understand that there is going to be repurcussions for this, you know. Severe ones." His tone on severe made Vincent shiver involuntarily. "Come with me, both of you."

Cloud shot a look at Zack, who shrugged helplessly. Vincent felt Cid's hand tugging at his sleeve.

"Vin."

"I had to, don't ask me why..."

"No, Vin. Listen. Come to the Talent Show, alright?" Vincent felt Cid's hand leave his shoulder as Vincent and Cloud were ushered along with the other three staff members, leaving both their friends behind. "Promise."

Vincent looked back and nodded, and Cid turned and walked away. Zack waved for a few moments, then turned the same direction as Cid had, walking away. Vincent looked back to the floor, finding his footsteps heavier then ever, but not as heavy as the weight of the eyes that stared at them as they traveled down the hallways, the substances that had been found in their room in clear plastic bags. 


	9. Zell and Irvine, Headmaster, Relm, Room ...

Although the atmosphere had become almost stiflingly solemn, something happened that managed to shake everyone completely. What seemed like a blue and yellow lightning bolt streaked past the group walking slowly down the hallway, pounding at an extremely high rate of speed, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"BORED BORED BORED BORED BORED!"

"ZELL, COME BACK!" Following behind him was a more brownish blur. Confused, Vincent and the others turned to follow the pairs progress down the hall, as had everyone who had been completely stunned into silence. The blue and blond streak was heading directly for the window that was open at the end of the hall.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOREDDDDDDDDDDD!" With a shout that reached an amazing level of volume, the young male lept out of the open second story window.

"ZELL!" The brown blur that had been following stopped, breathing heavily as he leaned against the windowsill, staring downwards in alarm. "You promised to stop doing that!"

Now that he had stopped moving, it was easier to see that the other male was wearing a brown trenchcoat and was carrying a cowboy hat in his hands, his long brown hair waving wildly in the wind. From outside, the cries continued.

"BOREDDDDDDDD!"

"Zell!" Turning, the young man dashed down the nearest stairwell and then vanished from sight.

Everyone seemed to blink at the same time.

Motion seemed to resume shortly afterward, with Hojo gesturing to Shera with her clipboard. "Make a note of Dincht and Kinneas as well."

She obediantly did, shaking her head back and forth and mumbling to herself. "I always thought they'd end up there eventually..."

Vincent found it easier to speak now that the silence had been broken, and his voice ventured out quietly as they resumed walking. "'There'...?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Hojo's tone, which was chilling in general, now frightened Vincent terribly. He tried to think back to the rules stated during orientation...they had said something about the posession of drugs in ones room, but he could not remember what the punishment was. He hadn't been paying much attention as he thought it would never apply to him, and now here he was. He would have cursed his lack of foresight, but this was really the last thing that he expected to, or in his opinion, SHOULD have happened to him.

After all, he only had alcohol, right...? It couldn't be that bad for him...he'd just explain where it came from...

But that would get Cid in trouble as well...should he tell the whole truth? He didn't want to cause Cid any pain...he was his friend...but...

Although he was used to such altruistic actions, sacrifices for those unworthy so that they'd be free, he began to feel a slight tinge of guilt. His actions that set others free...the thought of how Cid would feel occured to him for the first time. Sure, sacrificing himself would save Cid from pain...but then Cid would have to live with the knowledge that he HAD sacrificed himself for him...

He didn't want Cid to feel responsible for him, or feel the guilt that comes with having a friend take the blame for you when you knew it was your fault. Vincent was confused. This thought had never occured to him before.

But was it really his place to decide how Cid would feel about it? He wasn't sure...

He was so entrapped in his mental discussion that he hadn't noticed how far the five had gone. Now they stopped in front of a closed door, and Hojo spoke and broke the silence that had reigned for an unknown count of minutes.

"Here we are. Which one of you two gentleman wishes to enter first?" Prof. Hojo turned to the two with a malicious smile on his face, and Vincent unconsciously cringed away. Why did he hate him so much? He must, that would be the only reason why he would get so much pleasure out of causing him pain and embarassing him...but what had he ever done to him? Other then come in late...but that was unintentional, he hardly thought that could justify this kind of hatred...

While Vincent remained silent in his reverie, Hojo put a thin hand on Cloud's shoulder. Vincent noticed the shiver that ran through the blonde, no doubt from fear. "Why don't you go first, since your transgression is so much more serious?"

The quiet amusement in his voice made Vincent clutch his arms selfconsciously, and noticed for the first time that he was wearing his sleeping clothes, his sleeveless black shirt and his loose black pants. Blushing slightly, he looked down at the floor, feeling more embarassed then he had before. Why hadn't they given him time to change? Glancing at Cloud, he found that at least his clothes could pass for casual wear. He cursed his luck. Vincent was not aware that his clothes could pass for eccentric, but normal wear, and he wasn't about to let that interrupt his angry tirade against his own stupidity.

Why hadn't he thrown away the bottle? He said he would, he knew he meant to. Things had just happened so fast, and he lost track of time. If he had just done that, things would have been so much simpler...

Or would they...? He thought for a moment. Even if he denied posession of the drugs, he was almost positive they wouldn't believe him, and would have brought him in anyway...

He watched Cloud enter the room with Hojo behind him, almost as if the professor were preventing him from trying to escape. The door clicked behind them, and almost at the same time, the two women next to him turned to him. Lucrecia was the first to speak.

"This...may take a while. You can sit down if you want." She gestured to some chairs nearby. Silently Vincent sat down, not sure of what to think, as the two women walked off, speaking to eachother in low tones.

As he sat, a thought occured to him, and he put one of his hands to his chin, looking thoughtful. Why had they searched his room in the first place...?

He scratched his head softly as he tried to think of everything he had done since he had come here. Everything somewhat blurred for him. Picking out some important events, he tried to think of something that would warrant a room search...

Cid had been beaten up...but that wouldn't mean he was taking drugs or something. He narrowed his eyes slightly. The rumors flying about him and Cid...but that should be his own preference, that shouldn't have any relevance to whether he was on drugs or not...

Thinking back, the only thing that came to mind for him was when he had accidentally cut his arm in class...

He looked at his claw, which was clenching his knee tightly, and forced it to let go, looking at the sharp tips critically. He moved his eyes to his arm, where the glaring lines stared out at him. He put a hand to his mouth as he thought some more, a look of intense concentration on his face. Everyone had seen what had happened when he was at the front, or at least Hojo would have noticed. And even if they hadn't, just because someone hurt themselves purposefully wouldn't mean they were on drugs...

Although his conclusion on that wasn't as a clear as the others, it still left him pretty much in the clear. But if it wasnt him...

He turned towards the closed wooden door. Did that mean that...Cloud...? During all those long nights where he had disappeared for hours on end...? Was he...?

Vincent thought to himself carefully. It was true that he did not know Cloud very well...in fact, almost not at all, considering they had barely spoken. He didn't know what he did on his own time, and had never pried into his posessions...he was gone for so many long hours at the night and never told anyone where he was going. But to think that Cloud was on drugs, or even dealing them...it just struck him. He inclined his head slightly as he continued staring at the wood grain. Cloud didn't look like the type.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his still somewhat sleepy legs. If he hadn't put the drugs in his room, that meant they had to have come from Cloud. But still...why would they have searched his room? Vincent again looked thoughtful. If Cloud had any skill in whatever he was doing, he would have known how to cover his tracks. Anyone with THAT much HAD to know what they were doing...

So what had happened? Vincent scratched his head, noting the lack of his bandana. No wonder his hair was in his face. He brushed it back in annoyance only to find it falling forward into his eyes again. 

Something must have happened with Cloud, while he was out, that had caused them to search their room. He didn't know what it was, and he was fairly sure that Cloud would not want to discuss it.

Either way, they both had to find a way out of this. Vincent paled suddenly. What if they expelled him? His parents...

No, he couldn't let them find out. He had to be careful...they should be more lenient on him then with Cloud...

He sighed deeply. Why did this have to happen now? Everything in his life seemed to be conspiring against him. The nightmares were getting worse now...Cid didn't want to talk to him...he had trapped himself again...and he hated his classes...

Why was he even here? He shouldn't be here...he should have died...so long ago...he should have died and saved everyone this trouble...

He buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. Nothing ever went right for him, ever. Everything always had to go wrong. If he didn't know better, God hated him and cursed him with this horrible luck. He was even driving away Cid, who was quickly becoming his best friend. He always hurt everyone. He always did this.

He curled up on the chair and hide his face, although it wasn't because he was crying. His claw clutched the fabric of his pants tightly, and he tried to breath calmly. Within moments he had his distress under control, and only had a vague sense of unhappiness lingering as he uncurled slightly, his face passive. He turned towards the door, wondering how long the meeting would go on.

He waited for what seemed like hours, having to endure the stares of those that chanced glances into the hallway where the chairs were kept. He could hear the muted whispers as they wondered what he did...

No, he thought bitterly to himself. No, they probably knew what he had done by now. Everyone probably knew.

Shera and Lucrecia remained a room away, still talking in quiet tones. He wasn't sure whether it was about him or not, but the quick glances in his directions at times seemed to make it clear.

Finally the door opened, and Cloud walked out, his eyes glazed and open with fright and worry, and he didn't say anything. Vincent watched him go by, as silent as the blond youth was, as he stumbled for a moment and leaned against the wall, one hand pressed against the plaster. Within moments, Lucrecia and Shera were at his side, and they led him off, asking him questions in soft voices, no doubt about what kind of punishment had been inflicted and how he would go about performing the required tasks.

Vincent slowly turned towards the door, now open, and again unconsciously cringed away as Hojo's fingers held the door open, his arm held out in a gesture of recieving, as he smiled in a twisted way.

"Your turn, Valentine."

Vincent swallowed once and got up, trying to force himself to stay steady and to stay under control, as he walked into the office.  
It surprised him how welcoming the room was. The walls were dark brown, wood of some kind although Vincent couldn't tell what kind, and a large desk was against one of the two large windows. There was a large plush chair set at an angle to the desk, it's twin lit by the light coming from the other window. There was an ornate marble fireplace on one side, although it lay quiet, and the walls were decorated with paintings and curtains of all sorts. Confused by the disarming surroundings, Vincent walked with trepidation into the room, noting the ominous click of the door behind him as Prof. Hojo closed the door. Quicker steps behind him, muffled by the thick carpet, indicated the professors presence as he moved forward, standing next to the desk. The chair was turned away, so that Vincent couldn't see who it held. He stared at the back, feeling sick and frightened, as he eased himself into the chair in front of the desk, feeling awkward as the softness sank under him.

"Vincent Valentine is here."

The chair turned in response to Hojo's voice, and Vincent blinked several times before he could understand what he was seeing.  
The woman in front of him had long, silver hair that seemed stiff around her shoulders, which were a soft purple-blue color. She wore a dress that seemed to match her skintone perfectly, so the only way that Vincent could tell that she was wearing anything at all were the nearly transparent lines near her shoulders and her neck. Behind the strands of silver hair what appeared to be veined, translucent wings, a dark purplish-red color with small black lines running through it, occasionaly pulsing brighter or darker with every breath she took. What looked like a tentacle that was resting on the desk quickly vanished underneath, out of sight, and she folded large hands in front of her, hands that resembled claws more then anything else, as she regarded Vincent with a predatory and calculating look.

Prof. Hojo smiled in a strange way and walked around the desk until he stood next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a familiar way. "Valentine, this is the Headmaster, Jenova. She wants to speak with you about what we found in your room."

Vincent found his mouth hanging open, which he quickly remedied. Feeling exceptionally stupid, he moved his claw over his mouth, hiding it from view as he tried to think of how he should phrase what had happened. "Um..."

"Unless you would prefer ME to explain it to her..." Hojo crossed his arms, which galvanized him into action. Vincent let his claw fall slightly, so that he could finally speak.

"Well...the bottle..." Now he had to decide. What would Cid want him to do...? He had to stop thinking of how to make him happy, and what would Cid would WANT him to do...He had to think.

"Yes?" Jenova's voice made his entire body shiver. It was controlling, and invading, but pleasant all at once, and it frightened him terribly. "The bottle...?"

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, finding when he opened him that his hair had formed a veritable veil around his eyes. He brushed back the errant strands in annoyance and cleared his throat for a moment. "The bottle does not belong to me, although technically it is my responsibility."

Both Hojo and Jenova blinked at this, apparently not expecting Vincent to admit to his guilt. He wondered if Cloud had before him, but didn't have much chance to think about it.

"If it didn't belong to you, then who did it belong to?" He shivered again at the sound of Jenova's voice.

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before speaking, his voice controlled and soft. "Highwind. Cid Highwind. However, the bottle is my responsibility, and I'm willing to take whatever punishment is required for what I've done."

Hojo and Jenova exchanged glances for a moment, as if having some kind of mental rapport. Hojo, much to Vincent's relief, was the one to speak.

"This IS your first transgression, and your willingness and maturity in dealing with it are indeed admirable." Hojo spoke with a certain reluctance. "However, you WILL be required to begin to visit a weekly group, for those involved with drugs or alcohol, and we will be contacting your parents, although we will tell them what you told us now."

Vincent felt his heart sink, although he allowed nothing to show on his face. His parents...he had been futiley hoping that his parents would not be dragged in, but at least it shouldn't be too terrible... "I understand."

"You do also realize..." Jenova's voice struck right through him again, as if she knew everything he was thinking. "We will be searching Highwind's room as well, if what you have told us is true."

Vincent hadn't thought of that, but he let none of his worry or doubt show on his face. He simply nodded, keeping his face completely blank. "I understand."

"Good. Thankfully, this went much quicker then with the Strife boy." Hojo rolled his eyes for a moment. Jenova smiled in an eerie way that made Vincent twitch compulsively, particularly his arm.

"He was amusing in his own way, however." The quite amusement that had snuck into Jenova's voice made Vincent feel even more uncomfortable, and more then anything he wanted to get away. Hojo smiled back at her for a moment, then turned to Vincent with a severe glance.

"The drug group will be meeting on Mondays, at seven pm. You will be there, and we will monitor whether or not you have been there."

The reminder of something happening at night brought to mind the horror that had befallen Cid, and Vincent jerked slightly, then recoiled, coughing slightly.

"Do you have anything more to say?" Hojo's tone made him wish he didn't, but he had to say something...

"Yes...Highwind...Highwind was attacked last night..." Vincent looked down, not wanting to meet either of the eyes that were searching for his. "He was...beaten...very badly..."

"Really?" This news came as a surprise to both of the authority figures, who once again exchanged glances, this time with more concern. "How so?"

Vincent rubbed his arm. "It's...not too bad. His feet were torn up pretty badly..." Vincent lowered his voice and stared at Hojo for once while speaking. "That was why he was on crutches."

Hojo appeared to ignore him, but Vincent noted the slight change in his expression.

"But...I think I know...who would have done it."

"Who?" Jenova's question demanded an immediate answer, which Vincent gave quickly.

"The Weapons..."

Jenova and Hojo again exchanged glances, and looked back at him. "They've always been trouble. Which ones?"

Vincent tried to remember if Cid had said anything about who they were, and found himself shrugging. "There were four of them...I know that much."

"Why do you think they attacked him?" Jenova's question came, and Vincent locked eyes with Hojo, the hatred in his voice lying just below the surface, slow and deliberate.

"They thought he was gay."

"Oh?" Again the quiet amusement snuck into Jenova's voice, but given Vincent's current angered state, he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he had before. Hojo matched his glare, but the shifting within his eyes made Vincent sense that perhaps he felt a tinge of regret. Something was in those eyes that showed that he didn't approve of what had happened, at least, whether it was regret or penance didn't matter. Vincent knew now at least that Hojo hadn't intended to harm Cid so badly with his teasing. "And they attacked him?"

Vincent nodded, breaking off contact with Hojo who shuffled somewhat awkwardly. Vincent put his claw back onto his arm, holding onto it somewhat tightly. "Yes...it was at night while he was alone."

"Hmm." Jenova folded her hands in front of her again, looking at Hojo with unreadable eyes. "We shall have to speak with them about that. Thank you for informing us."

Vincent nodded.

"Now, please leave. Shera and Lucrecia shall answer any other questions you may have. I want to speak with Professor Hojo at the moment."

Vincent nodded awkwardly, not sure of what to make of the request, and finally stood, bowing slightly before exiting the room, feeling confused and sick inside.

His parents...he didn't want them to get involved...but if he explained what happened, they'd understand, right...?

He sighed deeply. He could only hope they would understand.

Once outside of the room, the change in atmosphere shocked him, having become unconsciously accustomed to the welcoming surroundings of the office. Shera and Lucrecia approached him, Lucrecia holding out a piece of paper.

"This has all the information you'll need for the meeting coming up, alright?" They were speaking as if someone was going to listen to them. Vincent took the paper quietly, not saying anything as he thought about what had just happened. "It should have everything you need to know on it. If you have any questions, just ask. Remember, it's meeting next Monday, and be prompt."

"Are you going to be alright?" Shera's soft eyes looked into his own, but Vincent found himself only desiring to be alone at the moment. He closed his eyes, looking away.

"I'll be fine..."

"Alright, you should go back to your room and sleep for a while...your classes should be starting soon, right?"

Vincent jerked as he remembered. He had to get to class! He nodded to them quickly.

"Thank you, but I have to go."

He hurried off down the corridors, heading in a direct line for his room in the dorm that seemed so far away at the moment, hoping he wouldn't be late.

Although with his current streak of luck, he most likely was going to be.

~~~

He made it to his class about fifteen minutes late, wearing a black trenchcoat over his black jeans, and a dark grey t-shirt underneath. He was breathing heavily, his hair once again tied back by his bandanna, with his toolkit held in his tingling fingers. The handle was sharp and cut at him, but he refused to drop the thing, knowing that it was important. He couldn't forget this.

He walked directly into the middle of his class while his teacher was talking. The teacher in question turned and regarded him with a frosty glare, simply motioning toward an empty seat near the edge of the room, which he slid into gratefully. He tried to catch his breath, trying to ignore all the stares that were coming towards him. He noted with a quick few glances around the room that he was one of the few males there.

"For those of you who may have missed it..." The woman at the front said, glancing at Vincent for a moment. "Welcome to Art 101. I'll be your teacher, Ms. Arrowny, although you may call me Relm, or Ms. Relm." She brushed back a strand of her hair that had fallen out of the kerchief on her head. She looked exceptionally young, and Vincent was confused as to how she could be a teacher. He shrugged it off, however, not viewing it as terribly important.

As she continued to speak about what she expected out of the class, what they were going to do as their first project, and what art truly was about, Vincent found his attention wandering. He wondered how soon Hojo and Jenova were going to call his parents...not too quickly, he hoped. He needed to prepare what he was going to say first. He hoped Cid would be alright...

He straightened as he realized. He had to warn him about the room search! But how...? He was probably already late...he just hoped that Cid had done a better job of hiding things then Cloud had.

"Excuse me, what's your name?" The woman, although Vincent was more tempted to say girl, was pointing at him, and he jumped slightly, startled. He brushed back his hair, feeling nervous as every eyes settled on him once again.

"Vincent, Vincent Valentine."

"Would you mind telling us why you're in this class?" Relm gestured to the rest of the class, the look on her face warm and accepting. But when she looked at him...Vincent felt a tinge of foreboding. He had rarely gotten along with any of his art teachers, and he really didn't think that Relm would be an exception, although he wanted to try.

"I...I like to draw..." Vincent felt extremely awkward and kept his eyes focused on the desk. "I've been drawing for a long time..."

"And...?" Relm gestured with a smile for him to continue, but Vincent could only shrug and mumble under his breath.

"I...just like to draw..."

Relm seemed confused for a moment, and then smiled in a strained way. "Alright, that's perfectly fine. How about you, Rinoa?"

The girl next to Vincent who was dressed mainly in blue smiled in response to Relm's question. "I love art! I've been drawing for a long time, and I want to improve my skills and make my art the best it can be!"

Vincent felt exceptionally stupid now that he was faced with a correct answer. He should have been paying attention.

"Anything else?" Relm seemed pleased by Rinoa's response, which prompted the black-haired girl further.

"I want to learn more about art and where it came from, and how to use different mediums, and use my talent to it's full potential!"

"Very good." Relm smiled in response to her, and Vincent felt extremely out of place. He didn't really belong here in any sense of the word that he could think of, and to hear people give answers that seemed to come so naturally, but came so contradictorily to him made him feel uncomfortable. "How about you?"

She moved on, and Vincent was left to sit and think about what he should have said. Angry at himself for his own stupidity, he dug into his backpack for his sketchbook, planning on drawing until he felt better. He had only begun to sketch out a form before silence made him look up.

Relm was standing above his desk with an amused smile, while the rest of the class just stared. Vincent felt even more awkward then before. Relm held out her small hands.

"May I see that, Vincent?"

Vincent anticipated that his sketchbook, like so many before it, would be confiscated and only see the light of day at the end of the year. He watched the book slide from his desk into her hands, and instead of simply confiscating it, she began to flip through it. Vincent opened his mouth to say something to her against it, to warn her, to explain things to her, but in the end said nothing. He felt violated in a way to have his sketchbook looked at without his permission.

She turned to the class, the book held open by her thin fingers, smiling at them. "Class, I'd like you to come and see this for a moment. Pull up your chairs and such."

Everyone willingly did so, but Vincent lingered behind, until he felt that he should get up and at least try and explain what it was they were looking at. He stood at the fringes, catching glimpses of his stark black and white drawings as they flipped through the pages.

"Vincent, how long have you been drawing?" Relm's question startled him, and Vincent stammered slightly before he could remember.

"Um...six or...or seven years..."

"See, class? Look at this potential." Relm gestured to a page that Vincent recognized, a picture of Lyzndr and Eiyon in an embrace when he had felt lonely. He felt very embarrassed, and wanted to explain who they were, but her voice cut him off. "These kind of drawings can only lead to better things. It's always important to practice."

Vincent felt a tinge of annoyance.

"Now see the sharp lines here? And here? Very stylized, but that can easily be fixed with some more work and dedication. And notice here how the lines are a bit sloppy, that can be worked on as well. It all takes work and dedication, and a good art class to make drawings like these into something great."

Vincent felt very annoyed and somewhat hurt. He hadn't asked to have his drawings analyzed in front of class or used as an example, and he didn't appreciate having them belittled in this way. He felt awkward saying so, so in the end just remained unhappily silent. She finally handed the book back to him.

"These are great little cartoons of yours. But now you're going to work on REAL art."

Vincent struggled to keep his face impassive as he shoved the book back into his bag with barely constrained fury. Who were they to judge his art? He poured his heart into his drawings, and they dared to say they weren't real art. He felt angry and frustrated, and the class continued much along the same vein, much of what was being said annoying and frustrating him to no end. The minutes passed by like hours.

He wondered what Cid was doing.

~~~

Cid had sensed that, considering Vincent's room search, his own would not be far behind. He had to hide his alcohol...but where...?

He sighed as he picked up the phone, wishing he didn't have to do this.

"Catface?" He heard the phone picked up on the other end, then a deep voice calling off to one side.

"For you."

There was a scramble for the phone, and the familiar voice of Reeve came across, apparently in his Cait Sith persona. "Hey Spazboy, what's up? Is this about the show?"

"No, it's more serious then that. Listen, y'got to help me here, or I'm goin' t'get #$^#ed majorly."

"What's wrong? What can I do?"

"I need you t'hold some stuff for me...just for a little while. Not even today. Just hide it somewhere in your room, okay?"

Reeve hesitated for a few moments, his voice finally coming in very unsure. "I don't know..."

"Pleeeeease? There's no one else I can ask! Don't worry, nothin'll happen. Y'can trust me."

Reeve laughed at that, but quickly sobered up. "I guess...but if anythin' happens it's goin' DIRECTLY on your shoulders, right?"

Cid nodded, although that motion could not be seen through the phone. "Right, don't worry Catface, I'll take th' fall for you if th' heat comes down."

This made them laugh for a few moments until Reeve finally spoke again. "What do I have to do?"

Cid stared with disgust at his crutches. "I can't take 'em m'self, got those #$^#in' piece of #$^# crutches t'deal with...can y'come over here and pick 'em up?"

"I guess..." Reeve paused for a moment. "I've got about an hour before class...alright. I'll be there in a little bit."

"Great!" Cid hung up abruptly on that note, not exactly sure of why, and then got busy.

Dragging out a box he had hidden underneath his bed, he searched around the room for several painful moments until finding a paper bag that Reno had left, who fortunately was not in the room at the moment. Taking the bottles that he had hidden in the box, he put them carefully into the bag and took a stapler from his desk, stapling it shut. He heard a timid knocking on the door, and he rushed forward to open it, startling Reeve who still had his hand up.

"Hi."

"Hey! There it is." Cid gestured at the bag sitting in the middle of the floor. "Just take care of it for me, alright?"

"It's not goin' to explode on me or anything, is it?" Reeve smiled as he picked up the bag easily from the floor, walking back toward the doorway.

"Nah, don't worry." Cid smiled back. "It's safe. Just keep it for a bit, alright? And we can work on the talent show later."

"Alright. I'll see you then." Reeve moved his hand for a moment to wave, then moved it back into his previous position, heading out the door which Cid nudged closed with his foot carefully. He flopped back onto his bed, a great deal taken off his mind with that taken care of.

He put his hands over his eyes for a moment, sighing. "Why th' $%&$ does this $@#^ always happen to me?"

He straightened up and checked the clock. He had a few hours to burn before his next class, so he leaned against the wall and flicked the TV on, losing himself in a comedy that was on.

An hour later the knock came on his door, and he opened it with his customary sarcastic smile, supporting himself with one arm on his crutch.

"Well la dee #%^#in' dah, what do we have here? Wish I could be surprised, but I saw you comin' a $%&$in' mile away. Wait, let me hide my giant pile of crack I have in my closet."

Neither Hojo, Lucrecia, or Shera were amused. 


	10. Preparation for the Show

Author's Note ~ Yeah, there are some incontinuities regardin Vin's art class, but he has two teachers, okay? ^_^o No really, it can happen. 

Cid's plan worked. None of his alcohol was found.

However, he DID discover something that he was only semi-aware of, and that was that Reno was on several drugs that he knew of, and several _more_ drugs he didn't even _know_, and the evidence of that was all over Reno's side of the room.

Despite the fact that they were Reno's drugs, which Cid vehemently stated several times as they dragged him off, they had nothing to convince them of that with Reno missing. Cid cursed his luck outloud, repeatedly. What DID give him some satisfaction was the fact that Reno was going to be in just as much #$^# as he was going to be in.

Cid was struggling against the grip on his wrist half-heartedly, knowing that actually breaking away would be pointless, but he wanted to make it perfectly clear he did not want to go. Not to mention it was making it difficult and awkward to maneuveur with his crutches.

"God#&#@ it, I already told you those weren't mine. Jesus Christ."

"Highwind, please try to co-operate..." Shera sighed deeply. "It would make things so much easier for everyone."

"The #$&# I'm goin' to co-operate if didn't do any #$^#in' thin' wrong!"

"Listen, until we have Reno here to vouch for you, they could be yours or anyone's..."

"$^@^, they aren't mine! They weren't even on my side of the room!"

Hojo made a disgusted noise of frustration, which made Cid laugh in a way. This caused Hojo to jerk on his hand roughly, knocking Cid off balance and nearly causing him to fall, had it not been for Shera catching him. Cid regained his sense of balance to find Hojo's eyes boring into his own.

"I don't have time for your childish activities, Highwind." The anger on the professor's face was evident, but his voice remained under control. Cid could almost see him twitching. "Now come along and co-operate, or things will be much worse for you."

Cid wanted to say something, wanted to continue rebelling, but he knew that wasn't a good idea. He held it in, forcing himself into silence as they continued walking down the hallway, frustration boiling within Cid with every step.

This was all that $%^$er Reno's fault...god#^#@ him and his #$^#in' drugs, @#^@...

When they got to Jenova's office, Shera and Lucrecia broke off, and Hojo pushed the door open angrily, continuing to lead Cid in although he had stopped struggling as before. The professor let go of him once in the room angrily and walked towards the desk near the wall, arms crossed and an unhappy expression on his face. Cid made his way towards the empty chair, flopping into it gratefully as he let his crutches fall to the floor.

He couldn't speak when he saw Jenova at first either, but she could. Her voice made him feel uneasy.

"Hello, Highwind."

Cid blinked for a moment, brushing back his hair with an idle hand. "Um...hi."

"I want to speak with you concerning Valentine."

Cid jerked sharply. "What? What happened? Did somethin' happen to him?"

Jenova waved a large hand to silence him, the motion somewhat slowed and distorted. "No, he is fine. We want to ask you about the bottle in his room."

So Vincent HAD told them the truth. Good for him...he wasn't about to let Vincent take the fall for him when it was his fault.

"Yeah, that was mine. Sorry about that."

Jenova and Hojo exchanged glances for a moment.

"But the rest of the #$..." Cid cut himself off mid-word, trying to think of a replacement. "The rest of the stuff in the room isn't mine, it's Reno's."

Jenova leaned over her desk, writing something with slow, deliberate movements on a piece of paper underneath her arms. "Either way..."

"Whether or not the drugs are yours shall be determined later, Highwind." Hojo's voice had again taken on the cold, calculating tone it had before. Cid felt his attention slipping away already. "We also want to inform you that actions will be taken against the Weapons to prevent them from repeating what happened to you."

Cid blinked for a second, raising one of his bandaged hands to touch the cut that had been covered over his forehead, smiling in an evil way. "That's great. I've been wantin' to hear that."

"Do realize, however, that there will be repurcussions for what you have admitted to..."

Cid nodded. This didn't really surprise him, he was fairly sure his parents knew he drank anyway. They knew that Cid had gone out of their control long ago, and no longer tried to stop him. Cid leaned back, letting the tired muscles in his back relax for a few moments.

Jenova handed the paper she had been writing on to him. "This is where you have to go, and when. It's not voluntary."

Cid took the paper with distaste. He hated being told he had to go places. And it was probably one of those touchy-feely places where everyone was told to get in touch with their feelings, which meant they got to whine for hours about things that Cid didn't care about. He nodded, however, not wanting to voice his disapproval.

"We'll be contacting Reno. Thank you for coming."

Taking that as a sign to leave, Cid leaned down to get his crutches, while Hojo shuffled somewhat awkwardly.

"I think Professor Hojo has something he wants to say." Jenova's tone made it clear that there was no doubt whatsoever in her statement. Cid, confused, looked up, his hands still questing for his crutches, at the man who coughed awkwardly, adjusting his glasses and tightening the ponytail behind his head before speaking in his normal, clipped tone.

"I did not intend for you to be injured, and I apologize."  
Cid narrowed his eyes. Did he really expect him to just accept an apology just like that? His inner sense told him that he should just say yes, but he hated listening to himself. His voice was scathingly sarcastic.

"Well, #$^#, I feel SO much better now."

The awkward silence that followed gave Cid the impression that he had definitly said the wrong thing, but he refused to take it back, instead levering himself upwards on his crutches and moving away, heading for the door. Neither Jenova nor Hojo said anything, and Cid closed the door behind him, sure that he had probably made a rather large mistake. He caught a sound that almost sounded like Jenova laughing behind him, but decided he must have been imagining it.

Trying to force it from his mind, he began to head down the hall, only to be stopped by Lucrecia and Shera.

"Do you know where you're supposed to go?"

Cid was tired of dealing with them and it was showing. He glared at them both angrily.

"I got the #$^#in' sheet, so now I'm goin' to get some #$^#in' sleep if that's okay with you two."

They broke away from him instantly, letting Cid go through in a foul mood, the paper that Jenova had given him tucked into one of his many pockets.

He got back to the room and got ready to take a nap, feeling exhausted and frustrated. His next class was later on in the day, so he'd be fine as long as he set his alarm. He flopped into his bed and fell into a deep sleep, not having any dreams during it, something he was actually grateful for.

~~~

The next day passed, thankfully, without much incident for either Cid or Vincent. Cid spent most of his day practicing with Reeve for the Talent Show, while Vincent took care of the numerous small things he had been neglecting lately. They still hadn't had contact since they had met outside of Vincent's room, and during this time Vincent had a great deal of time to think.

Seeing Cid again, and hearing him express his concern over what was happening to his room, reminded Vincent of how much he missed having him around. He felt overwhelmingly alone, even when Cloud was in the room, which he was even more rarely lately. He missed having people he could talk to, yet it was his own fault for refusing to talk in the first place. He felt extremely stupid and bad about what he had done, and wasn't exactly sure how he could fix it.

Cid asked him to come the Talent Show...well, that's what he was going to do. He was going to go and apologize, and tell Cid what was bothering him like he should have before. He was going to trust Cid.

He knew he had never done that before, but he didn't want to lose him over such a silly thing. He was sure that Cid would understand if he was the person that Vincent thought he was. He had to, or else he was making a big mistake.

But Vincent knew that he couldn't be making one, everything inside him told him that. He just had to trust him, for once, just trust him. He had to finally let someone else help support him.

The call from his parents that came later on that afternoon wasn't as bad as Vincent thought it would be. He explained carefully what had happened during each phone call, the first coming from his mother and the second his father, and his parents believed him. Vincent felt mildly surprised, but he knew that he had never really betrayed their trust before, so they didn't really have a reason to disbelieve him. He was glad for that. He didn't get along well with his mother, less so with his father, but he was glad that the ordeal hadn't become worse then it already had. They both urged him strongly to go to the meetings, which he was planning on doing already anyway, but he thanked them for their advice. He always felt drained after speaking with them.

At least the rest of his day was uneventful. He checked Cid's story, but there hadn't been an update, which both relieved and bothered him. Without the story to help, he didn't know how Cid was feeling at the moment. He felt very cut off, and he felt his own concern rising. He wanted to know how his friend was feeling, and he realized that must have been how Cid had been feeling all along. He felt another wash of regret, but clenched his first again in determination to fix what he had done.

Cid's parents didn't even call him.

The next day, the day of the talent show, Vincent went to his mailbox, his headphones firmly set in his ears and his walkman at high power, and found a card in there that he hadn't seen before. Mentally deducing it had to be the box of miscellaenous things he had sent himself, he took the blue card up to the counter of the mail room, stopping his walkman, looking around curiously. He had never been here before...he didn't really know what he was supposed to do. He pulled his ID from his pocket where he kept it, standing at the counter for a few moments tensely, fingering his card.

There was a loud crash from out of his vision behind the counter, and he looked in that direction with worry.

"Careful!"

"Careful I am!"

Within moments someone came to the counter, staring at Vincent with very tired eyes. "Yes?"

Vincent stared. He looked like a small boy, or at least, he was the size of one, with a large blue and white striped jesters cap on his head. Matching the blue of his hat was a blue shirt that had a large Z on the front, and when he reached out his small, child-like hands to take the card from Vincent's still hands, Vincent could see a large blue diamond on the back of it. Not sure of whether or not it was a tattoo or just pen, he didn't get much of a chance to study it in depth as he pulled his hand back underneath the counter, pulling out a large black book. Vincent felt the slight urge to ask if he needed help, but restrained himself.

"Need your ID..." The boy's voice was tired and exhausted, and Vincent held out his ID wordlessly. The jester wrote down the number on the card quickly and then slid the book back towards Vincent. "Sign here."

Vincent took the pen and looked up just in time to see what seemed like the first jesters twin, except clad in red and a T on his shirt, hanging upside down from the ceiling, a clipboard in his hands as he shuffled through the packages at the top of the shelves. The blue one turned angrily.

"It's number 327!"

"Know the number I do!" The red capped one angrily flipped onto the floor with surprising grace, glaring at his twin in annoyance.

"Um..." Vincent felt very awkward.

The two of them began bickering incessantly, and Vincent felt even more awkward then he had before. He tapped his returned ID on the desk for a few moments.

"Excuse me, um..."

They turned and stared at him. "I'd like my package..."

"If Thorn would do his JOB..." The blue one climbed back up towards the counter angrily, causing Thorn to throw his hands in the air and begin climbing shelves with surprising grace.

"If shut up Zorn ever did..."

Thorn eventually found the white box that Vincent had packed his things in and pulled it free, landing back on the floor easily. He slid it across the counter to Vincent, who took it gratefully.

"Thank you..."

The jester twins finally stopped arguing for a moment, apparently surprised. Zorn was the first to speak. "Um...you're welcome..."

Vincent took the package from the counter and walked off, hearing the two renew their argument as soon as he was out of earshot. Shrugging, he walked back to his room, bobbing to the music coming from his headphones occasionally.

In the box were several books that Vincent had wanted, some of his CD's and tapes, and some of his old sketchbooks. He kept them for nostalgia and also to study where he had gone wrong originally. He carefully arranged his things in their new places in his bedroom, setting his alarm for when the talent show would begin, and waited, watching TV distractedly.

Cloud came in once, but it was only to grab something he had forgotten and then disappear again. Vincent had become somewhat suspicious of where Cloud went during this time. Was he really dealing drugs or involved in some kind of drug cartel? Vincent's eyes roved lazily around the room for a moment. If he was still dealing with drugs, where would he be hiding them now? Certainly not the light...

Vincent shrugged. It wasn't his business, and he didn't want to ask anyway.

Finally, his alarm went off, alerting him, and he put on his large black sweater and trenchcoat as he headed out the door, thirty minutes early.

~~~

"I don't know about this, Cid..." Reeve was going back into his more timid mindset as he paced back and forth backstage along with the other people who were planning on being in the talent show. Cid was lounging on a large bass drum, looking very at ease. "Are you sure we should be doing this...? I mean, what if we get in trouble or something...what if we mess up...?"

"Stop worryin' so much, catface." Cid waved airily and smiled. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

In truth, Cid was just as nervous as he was, but he wasn't going to show it. Cid had a masterful gift for hiding how nervous he was, but it did manifest itself physically by causing his limbs to shake compulsively sometimes. Fortunately, situated as he was, it would have been difficult for him to begin shaking.

The talent show had actually become something of a big thing, and it had many acts and people in it, something that helped Cid and Reeve feel a bit more at ease. If they had been one of the only ones to be in it, they would have felt more nervous then they did now. Finally, they heard the voice of the show master, and they settled into silence, still feeling extremely nervous inside. 


	11. The Talent Show ~ Beginning

Author's Note ~ Can you say "cameo?" Mwa ha ha. 

Vincent, due to his early nature, had got a good seat near the front. He watched as the auditorium filled gradually until it was completely filled. He could see several faces that were vaguely familiar, along with several faculty, including Relm and Hojo. Jenova, he noted with some surprise, looked positively ecstactic over the entire affair. He sat comfortably and waited while the lights finally dimmed, bringing the chattering crowd to silence.

A spotlight fell against the curtains, and the leader of ceremonies walked forward, smiling broadly. His short blond hair was kept behind him in a ponytail, and he wore a shirt that read "Play Fair!" on it, along with large jeans. Behind him swept a prehensile, yellow-furred tail, and around his throat was a tiny black ribbon. He smiled to everyone as he waved broadly. Vincent realized that it was the same boy that he had seen in his Human Emotions class.

"Hey everyone!"

Everyone cheered in response to his warm voice.

"I'm Zidane, and I'll be leading the Talent Show for tonight! I hope you'll all be very supportive to the people who dedicated so much of their time to help entertain you all tonight! Remember, we'll be voting by measure of applause to who wins the cash prize at the end! Two hundred Gil to whoever-"

There was a voice from the rafters. "Just shut up and start the show!"

There was a slight titter from the crowd, and Zidane shot an annoyed glance to where he had heard the voice coming from before returning to the crowd with a smile. "Well, let's get going, shall we?"

Everyone erupted into cheers, which Zidane seemed to absorb with happiness. He waved his arms dramatically, and faster then one could catch, a packet of cards appeared in his hands. He bowed slightly to the few claps he got for his trick, then walked off towards the side of the stage, the spotlight following him.

"The first act we have for tonight is the senior best known to everyone as Mukki, here with his friends for an acrobatic show he describes as 'manly tumbling'! Let's give it up!" Zidane clapped his hands, thus launching the rest of the audience into excited applause. As he settled on a chair set near the edge of the stage, the curtains slowly opened.

Standing in the center of the stage, along with mats and the like, were several men, all dressed in very tight fitting spandex and tights. Vincent raised an eyebrow in confusion, but couldn't help but snicker slightly.

What proceeded was something that Vincent could not stop laughing at to himself for some time. He didn't know why he found it so amusing, but he had to cover his mouth with his hand and look down to keep from laughing outloud. Mukki's "manly tumbling" was extremely funny. They WERE skilled, but the sheer silliness of the entire thing just couldn't be avoided.

"Hup! Hup!"

"Hup! Hup!" 

The two flipped evenly off the mat and rolled across, only to be caught by their teammates, who responded with the same thing.

"Hup! Hup!"

Meanwhile, Mukki stood near the back, looking extremely proud of himself. "That's it, Bubbies! Show them what you've got!"

Vincent was aching from concealed laughter, but he refused to let it come out. Nobody else in the audience seemed to be laughing...out loud anyway.

The finale involved Mukki and all his friends forming a huge human pyramid, with Mukki on the top, heaving and panting. They all landed skillfully and waved as they "hupped" their way off the stage with more heaving and panting.

The curtain closed, and finally Vincent couldn't contain himself anymore. He burst out laughing, his normally quiet voice caught with laughter. It was only a few seconds, but he finally managed to get himself back under control. This seemed to loosen the rest of the crowd up, and they laughed a bit themselves. Judging from Zidane's equally amused expression, Vincent assumed it was supposed to be funny. Zidane gestured broadly, his tail sweeping the floor behind him eagerly.

"Thank you, thank you. Remember everyone, sign ups for Mukki's annual trip to the cabin in the mountains are in the lounge!"

The audience laughed more readily at this, and Zidane read the next card with confidence.

"Our next act comes from three of the most skilled and prolific martial arts students at our fine college, along with the professor that taught all of them everything they know! Please welcome Tifa Lockheart, Yang Leiden, Sabin Figaro, and Master Zangan!"

Everyone clapped as the curtains opened once again, and the four stood in the center stage. Tifa was a tall, muscular woman who was wearing a white tanktop, along with shorts held up by suspenders. Next to her, matching her in size, were the two younger males, Yang and Sabin. Sabin's blond hair was held back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a sleeveless purple shirt with a pair of loose fitting white pants, held by a green sash. Yang seemed to be a bit older and more dignified then his two companions, his head mainly shaved except for a braid near the base of his skull, dark brown in color that matched his eyes. He was wearing an almost matching pair of pants to Sabin's, excepting his were red and held with a yellow sash, although he was shirtless. Zangan completed the ensemble, although he was almost completely obscured in a large voluminous red cape. 

Although Tifa was the only female, she more then held her own in the oncoming display.

What followed was a flurry of activity that Vincent found hard to follow. It was almost as if there was a battle going on that had been carefully scripted for days. Tifa and Yang began at first, each blow blocked and given an appropriate counterblow with such speed that Vincent could not follow. Their hands and legs became blurs, and even when Sabin joined in, making the battle going in three different directions at once, they never once faltered, each one holding their own ground, attacking and defending in the same breath. Vincent watched in amazement and some envy. He wished that he could be able to perform such feats of atheletic prowess. At points the three even did jump kicks and flips in the air, things that were so insanely smooth that Vincent could not believe they were real humans in motion. They even performed running flips off of walls.

Zangan stood to one side, watching his students solemnly, until they had been carrying on the martial arts display for quite some time. Then he drew out a pair of nunchucks from underneath his cape and threw it onto the ground between the three.

Vincent expected a scramble for the weapon, now convinced that he was watching an actual battle, but this seemed to be carefully scripted as well, with each block and punch leading them closer and closer, until Yang finally took hold of the nunchucks, weaving them around him in a whirring blur.

Zangan then tossed both Tifa and Sabin staves and continued to stand back and watch.

If the original display was amazing, this was mindblowing. Yang's skill with the nunchucks was only defeated by both Tifa and Sabin's ability with the bo's they had been thrown. Each attack parried and countered with perfection, until finally they simultaeneously stopped, each of them dropping their weapons and bowing towards the audience, their performance complete.

The applause was loud and long, and after the curtain closed Zidane had to wave everyone to calm down.

"Aren't they great, folks? Remember, Zangan's karate class meets wednesdays and fridays. Be sure to sign up!"

Vincent sat and waited, wondering which number Cid's act would be. He had long since guessed that Cid was going to be IN the Talent Show, rather then just watch it with him.

"Next up, we have one of our foremost fencing and swordsmanship instructors, abilities which everyone needs to know." He smiled at the audience, who laughed in turn. "He's been with us for ages and has decided to bless us with one of his foremost displays of skill in the sword arts, including the well reknowned QuadraSlice technique! I present Master Cyan Garamonde!"

The majority of the crowd burst into applause, although Vincent clapped somewhat awkwardly. He had never heard of Cyan before...but he most have been quite a figure to warrant such applause before the show even began.

The curtains opened revealing the man sitting on a collection of boxes that must have been moved onto the stage during the delay between scenes. In the center of the stage stood a wooden dummy. Vincent stared as Cyan slowly stood. He was dressed in very simple clothes of silver and black, a hilt at his side, no emotion shown on his face, his mouth hidden by a black moustache. Dangerous eyes glittered as he slowly drew his sword from the sheath at his side, leaping onto the floor, his black ponytail, bound with a blue piece of fabric, fluttering behind him.

Vincent's mouth hung open at Cyan's amazing show of skill. The sword flickered and moved in patterns around Cyan, whirling in every direction possible, Cyan moving along it, the sword becoming an extension of his body. Cyan moved around the stage, and Vincent could almost see the invisible enemies that Cyan was dispatching and countering all at once. Never once did he falter, or misstep, or lose his balance. His motions were fluid and solid all at once, like water, and yet he did not touch the dummy set at the center of the stage. Not able to tear his eyes away, Vincent instead began to listen to find the rest of the auditorium stunned into complete silence. The only sound was the whoosh of Cyan's sword through the air, the light sound of his footsteps against the wood boards.

He knelt, the sounds stopping, and the silence struck Vincent almost as much as what happened next.

Cyan dashed towards the dummy set at the center of the stage, his sword raised high. The sounds and actions that followed went so quickly it was hard for Vincent to follow what was happening. Cyan seemed to appear in all directions at once, pausing for a moment only once he reached a different location. In fact, at one point Vincent almost saw Cyan laughing triumphantly, althought the rushing sound of air and the sound of metal cleaving through wood made it impossible to hear.  
Cyan knelt at the front of the stage, sword held behind him, completely still as the dummy behind him fell into dozens of pieces, clittering to the floor with a dull sound.

Cyan stood amidst thunderous applause, sheathing his sword and waving to the rest of the crowd. For once there was a glint of happiness in his eyes, a slight smile on his lips, and then he was back to his normal impassive self, striding off the stage.

Vincent clapped as much as anyone else. Zidane took the stage again, the curtain closing on Cyan's straight, proud form.

"And THAT'S why he teaches swordplay!" Zidane smiled at the laughter that came from his statement. "I also have to tell everyone that Master Garamonde is refusing to compete, so he's not going to be eligible to win the prize. He said he wants it to go to someone who truly deserves it."

There were a few boos from the crowd, but the majority of people cheered for his charity. Vincent found himself smiling. So not only was he skilled, he was noble as well...he had a feeling he would have enjoyed having Cyan as a teacher, however uninterested he was in swords.

"Thou art too kind, Master Garamonde!" Zidane smiled as most of the audience began laughing, although Vincent wasn't sure why. "Thank you!"

Zidane again seemed to generate the next card out of thin air.

"Our next act comes from one of our more famous female RA's, you may all know her." Zidane smiled. "She's been practicing her skill for years, and she's decided to share it all with you. Here's Freya Crescent!"

Zidane backed away, clapping, as the rest of the audience welcomed her. The curtains slid open, and Vincent watched intently.

Standing in the center of the stage, which had been cleared of the debris of Cyan's display, stood the woman, carefully composed. Vincent did a double take for a moment. She...

Freya's short white hair framed a kind, grey-furred face, framed by two large rat-like ears. She twitched her muzzle for a moment, extending her paws for a moment to greet the crowd, which clapped in response. The rat-woman, which was all that Vincent could think of to describe her at the moment, was dressed primarily in red and purples, her tail snaking along behind her with a single ribbon attached near the end. Balanced on careful footclaws, she gestured to the sidelines, nodding once.

A careful harp melody began, and Freya let her arms rest at her sides, her eyes closing for a moment. Shortly after the harp began, the drums and the rest of the melody kicked in, and then Freya began to dance.

With a sharp clicking motion, Freya kicked her legs forward in short, controlled movements. The clicking of her footclaws went along perfectly with the music that was accompanying her, and not once did she ever move her arms. She lept slightly, performing a delicate spin, and her tail swayed along with the lively melody that continued to increase in speed and tempo. The clicking of her footclaws actually began to add to the music itself instead of accompanying it, and she performed another leap before finally coming to a stop, her feet and the music stopping at the same time. She bowed as the crowd clapped and cheered for her, Vincent among them. He had never seen a dance like that before.

"Thank you, Freya!" Zidane smiled as he walked back on stage, and Freya waved as she exited stage right. "She's been doing that for years, you know. Now for more on the musical front, we have someone who's been singing for years, particularly opera, we have one of our foremost students in both the liberal and physical arts, Celes Chere! Everyone, give her a hand!"

Everyone in the audience clapped as the curtain opened once again.

The music began at first, slow and sad. The tone hit Vincent very hard, it nearly brought him to tears. It sounded so familiar to him, something that reminded him of a previous tragedy...

Slowly the light began to build near stage right. The woman sitting on the edge of the boxes, which had been replaced, seemed to radiate strength and yet, a very strong sense of sadness. She had one leg curled up near her chest, her arms near her sides, protected by orange bracers. She was wearing a matching pair of pants and an orange vest over a dark purple tanktop underneath. She turned to face the audience slowly, her long blonde hair moving past her shoulder slowly. Vincent felt a deep pang of sadness, and he wasn't sure why.

She let her leg fall, leaning back for a moment, her eyes closed. When she sang, her voice was planitive and sad, and fit the mood of the music perfectly.

_Oh my hero, so far away now  
Will I ever see your smile?  
Love goes away, like night into day  
It's just a fading dream...  
_

At this point the music picked up from the sparser feeling it had originally, again manipulating Vincent's emotions beautifully. He could almost feel himself putting a hand over his heart as she began singing once again.__

I'm the darkness, you're the stars  
Our love is brighter than the sun  
For eternity, for me there can be,  
Only you, my chosen one... 

She stood slowly, moving down the boxes for a moment, her voice never changing or altering as she moved. However, the language she was singing in changed, and she handled this with such skill that it was hard to remember she had originally been singing in English. 

_Amor mio, caro bene,  
Perché vai lontan da me?  
Giurasti un amor, che mai non dovea  
Aver fine per noi...  
_

Nei momenti...di tristezza,  
Nei momenti di dolor,  
A te, mia stella, penso  
Con infinito ardore...

She stood in the center of the stage, her voice clear and beautiful, as she held out her arms. She looked so strong, and yet she was so beautiful all at once. Again the language changed, and she handled it masterfully, her pronounciation perfect.

_Itoshi no...anata wa...tooi tokoro e?  
Iro asenu, towa no ai, chikatta bakari ni  
_

Kanashii...toki ni mo...tsurai toki ni mo,  
Sora ni furu, ano hoshi o, anata to omoi... 

She held the final note beautifully, the music ending with her, and she bowed, her hair moving past her shoulders lightly. As the curtains closed, Vincent clapped loudly, feeling both touched and moved by her performance. Someone in the crowd began shouting.

"Mariaaaaaaa!"

"Setzer, sit down!"

However, Vincent felt that she did not get the praise she deserved, and wondered if maybe no one was as sympathetic to the song as he was. Shrugging, he waited until Zidane took the stage again, wiping away a fake tear. He waited for the applause to die down before speaking again, which took a little while. Although Celes didn't get as much applause as, say, Cyan, the ones who did applaud for her applauded for a long time.

"Beautiful, wasn't it? A big thanks to Celes for that wonderful performance. Next up..." Another card seemed to materialize in Zidane's hand, and he read off it with a flourish. "We have the Iron Qu competion, with Quina Quen, Quale, and Quan! Let's give them a hand!"

Vincent clapped obediantly, making a note to ask Celes later what the name of the aria she had sung was, and waited.

When the curtain opened again, there were standing three of the most bizarre things Vincent had ever seen, amidst a collection of culinary goods, equipment, and accessories that had been gathered for their act. They were beyond description, except they all had exceptionally long tongues and were dressed like cooks.

Since the last few acts had been so deadly series, this was a welcome break. The competition was very funny, with many comic mishaps and the like. Quina demonstrated her (or was it a he?) ability to flip pancakes perfectly into its mouth, although it did miss with one, striking Quale in the head with it instead. Vincent felt a lot better watching them, as the aria had left him feeling sad inside for some reason. He smiled as they dashed back and forth cooking various things, and finally ending up with an actual large buffet, which they stood in front of proudly.

Zidane walked forward again, clapping for them. "Thank you, thank you! Anyone who wants to sample the Qu's cooking can go outside after the show."

Although the creatures did look very odd, they could cook, Vincent could tell by his sense of smell, and he made a note to go visit the table afterwards.

"After our next act we'll have a short break, then go back on schedule, okay everyone?" Zidane smiled and flipped another card out of seemingly nowhere. "Our final act for now is going to be performed by some of Cyan's best students, Kain Highwind and Cecil Harvey!"

Vincent jerked as he heard the familiar last name, but the person who walked on stage did not look familiar to him at all. He stared in confusion, not sure of what to make of someone with the same last name. Cid had never mentioned a brother, and they didn't look anything alike.

Cecil and Kain were decked out in what seemed to be prop armor, Kain equipped with a dragon-like headpiece, while Cecil's looked more like a hawk. Kain had a long spear, while Cecil was carrying a sword. The two of them saluted eachother.

"I shall disobey his majesty! The crystals belong to the world!" Cecil called out over-dramatically.

"Then you shall die for disobediance! His majesty's wish is law!" Kain seemed to be a bit more skilled, his voice not quite as forced. Both advanced at once, and then began to clash.

Vincent watched with interest. They were skilled indeed. They parried and dodged, and they had momentary power struggles, usually during which Cecil would lose. At one point Cecil even lost his sword, knocked to one side by one of Kain's more powerful strikes, and he rolled quickly to retrieve it. The battle finally ended with both of them apparently stabbing one another at the same time, slumping to the stage in mock death. As they stood and bowed, the audience clapped for them eagerly, Vincent among them.

The curtain closed, and Zidane took the stage once again. "Thank you for that display, Cecil and Kain! There will now be a short intermission! Feel free to walk around or get something to drink."

Vincent didn't feel uncomfortable, so he simply sat where he was, watching the rest of the audience get up and move around. 


	12. The Talent Show ~ Finale

The intermission was indeed fairly short, and he spent most of it just watching other people. Zidane remained near the edge of the stage, his tail twitching. He seemed to really be enjoying what he was doing. He was probably an actor.

Everyone eventually filed back in, and the show continued onwards, Zidane again taking center stage.

"Welcome back everyone! We've got some really great acts up for you now, so enjoy! Our next act is courtesy of Locke Cole, who is demonstrating one of his more 'unique' skills." Zidane gestured towards the curtain, that fluttered open to reveal the stage.

In the center of the stage was a dummy, apparently stuffed with straw, that was covered with various pockets. Over each pocket was a small set of bells, three to each pocket. Locke himself sat off to the side, smiling confidentally as he waved to the crowd. His grey hair was held back by a blue bandana, and he wore a matching blue vest and pants over a white shirt. His face seemed kind, but there was something about it that gave Vincent a sense of misgiving.

"Remember kids..." Locke spoke, holding out his arms. "Don't do this at home."

There was a scattering of laughter among the crowd, and Locke smiled in return, brushing back some errant strands of hair from his face. He then turned towards the dummy, walking over to it confidentally. He reached inside one of the many pockets that littered the dummy, causing the bells to jangle warningly. He pulled out a single gil.

"Every pocket on this dummy has one gil in it, as you can see..." He put the coin back inside the pocket, causing the bells to again chime, and then turned to the audience, turning his pockets inside out.

"Nothing up my sleeve..." He smiled again, causing another snicker from the crowd.

"And away we go!"

Locke moved in a blur that was too fast to be seen, and he ended at the other side of the stage, kneeling. He stood and smiled, holding up his hand and fanning out three gil against one another.

"Now, in slow motion for those of you not paying attention..." Locke dropped the three gil onto the ground, where they made a clanging noise. He walked back to the dummy this time, much slower and paused next to it.

Vincent watched intently, not wanting to miss this again.

Locke stood next to the dummy, and looked off in the other direction. His hand moved towards one of the lower pockets on the dummy, and in a quick, but easy to see movement, entered into the pocket and came back out again, a gil held tightly between two fingers. The bells made no sound whatsoever. Locke smiled as he let the gil join it's brothers on the floor.

With quick motions, Locke moved around the dummy, looking for all the world as if he was doing something else, although it wasn't clear what. He looked at the ground, at the sky, and at one point even looked at the dummy itself, waving and smiling at it as if it were alive. And there was the constant sounds of coins hitting the ground with each step he took, as he pickpocketed everything the dummy had without the bells making a single sound.

The last gil he flicked into the air and caught with ease, smiling with easy grace. He winked at the crowd. "Like I said...don't try this at home."

He bowed once again as the curtains closed amidst a great deal of applause. Vincent applauded to, albeit a bit slower. That was indeed impressive. He had to make a note to be careful around Locke from now on.

Zidane walked to the center stage again. "Wasn't that great? Locke's one after my own heart, really." Zidane winked towards the audience, causing another fit of laughter. "Not that we endorse that kind of behavior, but..." He shrugged and smiled. "You know."

The rest of the audience smiled and laughed with him.

"Next on our list of acts we have Cid Highwind and Cait Sith...Reeve?" Zidane shrugged for a moment. "Either way, they're here to give their own stab at the singing profession. Take it guys!"

Vincent sat forward in his seat, dying of curiousity to find out what it was that Cid had wanted to say to him through the talent show. 

The curtain opened on Cid standing in front of the microphone, Reeve standing behind him with an acoustic guitar. Cid nodded to Reeve, who nodded back haltingly. Cid took the microphone confidently, although Vincent could see his hands shaking. He had to be nervous, Cid didn't strike him as the type to enjoy publicity. Reeve began strumming on the guitar for a bit, after a few bars finally getting the hang of it and playing rather well. Vincent noticed that he wasn't using a pick.

"Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American dream..." Cid walked across the guitar, dragging the microphone cable along behind him, smiling insatiably. His eyes were scanning the crowd, not doubt looking for Vincent. In response, Vincent raised his metal claw, hoping that would be enough. Once he located him, Cid smiled broader and nodded towards him and continued.

"About me. About you." Cid put a hand on his chest, his voice sincere, but his face still uncontrollably smiling. "About the way our American hearts beat way down in the bottom of our chests...about that special feeling that we get in the cockles of our hearts." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe below the cockles, maybe in the sub-cockle area, maybe in the liver, maybe in the kidneys, maybe even in the colon...we don't know."

He gestured to Reeve, who began playing with a bit more vigour, and Cid actually began to sing at this point. Vincent was surprised that he could, but Cid had a very strong voice that wasn't that unpleasant to listen to.

_I'm just a regular joe with a regular job  
I'm your average white suburbanite slob...  
I like football and porno and books about war  
I got an average house with a nice hardwood floor _

The audience was giggling at this point, and Vincent was smiling, but he didn't understand what Cid was trying to say yet....

My wife and my job, my kids and my car  
My feet on my table, and a cuban cigar... 

At this point Cid turned directly towards the audience, more energy in his voice, it taking a much more rough tone that Vincent was used to.

_But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested!_

In the background Reeve softly accompanied him.

_Oh no, No way, uh uh, no..._

Cid held his hands into the air, smiling broadly as he continued to sing in an extremely rough way, not so loud as to be considered screaming or shouting, but not exactly singing at the same time.__

_No I've got to go out and have fun at someone else's expense!_

Reeve sang along with him with a bit more energy this time. 

_Woah yeah, oh yeah, yeah yeah yeah!  
_

Cid was smiling rather evilly at this point, and he held his arm out, the microphone still near his mouth as he continued to sing. __

I drive really slow in the ultra-fast lane  
While the people behind me are going insane! 

The rest of the audience was laughing at this point, and Cid began to sing with more control at this point, which made Vincent begin to smile.

_ I'm an @#$hole! _

He held the note while Reeve sang along behind him.

_He's an @#$hole, What an @#$hole_

Cid threw his head back, keeping his arm out, as he continued to sing with all his power, Reeve echoing him in the background.  
  
_I'm an @#$hole!   
He's an @#$hole, Such an @#$hole, olyole...  
  
_Cid turned to the audience again, smiling broadly, as he continued to sing, his hand outspread.  
  
_I use public toilets, and I @#$% on the seat!  
I walk around in the summertime saying "How about this heat?"  
  
_Vincent smiled to himself as he leaned on one of his hands, watching Cid begin to enjoy himself on stage, shaking his head back and forth slowly. He couldn't believe that Cid would go through this much trouble to try and say sorry in his own way. Vincent knew what Cid meant through the song, although he didn't feel it was justified, and he could not stop smiling through the entire song. The rest of the audience was laughing rather hard.

The two of them went into the chorus once again, Cid moving around excitedly while Reeve began to smile as he sang, enjoying himself.  
  
_I'm an #$%hole!   
He's an @#$hole, What an @#$hole  
I'm an @#$hole!   
He's the world's biggest @#$hole....  
  
_Cid again turned to the audience, his voice rising with barely contained humor underneath as he continued to sing.  
  
_Sometimes I park in handicapped spaces  
While handicapped people make handicapped faces!  
  
_Vincent found it kind of odd to hear Reeve swear, but continued to listen._  
  
I'm an @#$hole!   
He's an $%@hole, What an @#$hole  
I'm an @#$hole!   
He's a real @#$%ing #$%hole...  
  
_Then suddenly Cid grew serious, holding the microphone near his chest looking incredibly sincere. He looked at the audience with a small smile on his face as he continued to sing.  
_  
Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song  
Ranting and raving and carrying on  
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong...  
  
_Cid turned as if to walk away, then spun around.  
_  
Nah!  
I'm an @#$hole! (He's an @#$hole, What an #$@hole)  
I'm an @#$hole! (He's the world's biggest @#$hole)  
  
_At this point Cid took the microphone and stopped singing, instead speaking extremely fast.

"You know what I'm goin' to do? I'm goin' to get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible, hot pink!" Cid gestured broadly. "With whaaaaleskin hubcaps, an all leather cow interior, and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights, yeah!" Cid pumped a fist for a moment. "And I'm goin' to drive around in that baby, at a 115 miles per hour, gettin' one mile per gallon, suckin' down quarter-pounder burgers from McDonalds in the old-fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers, and when I'm done suckin' down those greaseball burgers, I'm goin' to wipe my mouth with the American flag, and then I'm goin' to toss the styrofoam containers RIGHT out the side, and there's ain't a GOD$%@# thin' anybody can do about it, you know why? Because we got the bombs, that's why." At this point people in the audience began cheering, which only seemed to encourage Cid.

"Two words: Nuclear #$^@IN' weapons, oKAY?" Cid emphasized the end of the word as he began to gesture behind him, turning his back on the audience for a second. "Russia, Germany, Romania, they can have all the Democracy they want, they can have a big Democracy cakewalk right through the middle of Tienamen Square and it won't make a lick of difference cause WE GOT THE BOMBS, oKAY?" Again Cid was greeted with cheers, and he decided to randomely change topic.

"John Wayne's not dead, he's frozen, and as soon as we find a cure for cancer we're going to thaw out the Duke and he's going to be pretty @#%#ed off, you know why? Have you ever taken a cold shower? Well multiply that by fifteen million times, and that's how $#@%ed off the Duke's going to be! I'm going to get the Duke and John Casavetti and..."

At this point, Reeve began to cut in, and finally it was enough to make Cid stop ranting enough to turn around.

"Hey! Hey hey hey!" Reeve was smiling himself. "You know, you really are an @#$hole?"

Cid smirked. "Why don't you just shut up and sing the song, pal?"

Amidst a great deal of applause, they launched back into the song.  
  
_I'm an #%$hole!   
He's an #$%hole, What an #$%hole  
I'm an #$%hole!   
He's the world's biggest #$%hole!_  
  
At this point Cid began to gesture at the crowd as he began to spell out the word, calling out for them to join him. They got several choruses going on, and Vincent himself could not restrain from joining in.

"H-O! L-E!"

And finally Cid held up his hands for a silence, leaving Reeve to play a small riff on his guitar as Cid took the guitar and, looking comically serious, he stared at the audience.

"I'm an #$%hole, and I'm proud of it."

And Reeve struck the final chord on the guitar, and the audience erupted into applause, causing Cid to bow repeatedly. Vincent clapped as much as the rest, and he caught Cid meeting eyes with him for a few seconds and winking. Finally they were ushered off the stage, and Zidane again took center stage.

"Doesn't take a genius to know THAT song's going to be popular." Zidane smiled, and the rest of the audience laughed with him. "Thank you, Cid and Reeve! Our next act is courtesy of one of our more eccentric staff residing with us as a master of costume and design! Truly a mystery to everyone, I present Gogo!"

Zidane backed off, clapping, and Vincent clapped as well, curious as to what Zidane could be talking about.

When the curtain opened, the stage was clear, and then someone walked on stage.

Vincent and everyone in the audience blinked.

It was Jenova.

He expected her to say that Gogo couldn't make it, or something happened, or that Cid was being dealt with, but a peal of laughter broke his thoughts, making him turn towards the back of the room. There, sitting in a chair along with Hojo and Lucrecia, Jenova was clapping her hands and laughing. Completely and utterly confused, Vincent turned back to the stage to find the Jenova on stage bowing and smiling.

A screen was wheeled onto the stage, stopping next to the other Jenova, who waved for a moment before disappearing behind the screen.

In a surprisingly short time, someone appeared from behind the screen, wrapped in so many clothes and garments that Vincent couldn't tell whether or not they were male or female. Vincent was extremely confused, and he got the impression from a lot of people in the audience that he wasn't the only one. However, there were a few people he noted who smiled at this, having previous experience with Gogo no doubt.

"I am Gogo." The voice that came from the huge pile of wraps couldn't be identified as female or male either, and again the figure disappeared behind the screen.

It seemed to only take seconds before it emerged again, this time an exact replica of Prof. Hojo. Vincent could barely stifle a snicker at this, and when he chanced a glance at Hojo he found his expression not one of amusement. This caused Vincent so smile more broadly, and Gogo bowed for a moment.

"Assignment due tomorrow!" It did in a perfect imitation of Hojo's voice, causing more people in the audience to laugh. Bowing, it returned behind the screen and came out once again, this time a perfect imitation of Cyan.

"Thou art late! Thou must pay thy penalty!" It drew a sword from it's side and brandished it for a few moments amidst the laughter, bowing once again before disappearing behind the screen.

Gogo went on to imitate Lucrecia, Shera, Zidane, someone that Vincent wasn't familiar with who had an extremely funny voice, and several other faculty members, as well as students that were well known. Gogo even imitated Mukki, which impressed Vincent the most because Mukki seemed to be a completely different body type. But that didn't stop Gogo. It switched genders, ages, weight, even height at times. It was really quite mystifying, and Vincent almost wished that Gogo would try to copy him, but in the end Gogo finished with a stunning imitation of Freya before bowing and leaving the stage amid copious applause.

"Isn't that amazing?" Zidane took the center stage again. "I mean, Gogo even got my tail right! Truly someone of great talent. Oh, also Gogo has decided not to participate for the cash prize, putting them with Cyan. How generous, huh?"

No wonder Gogo was a mystery... Vincent thought to himself. No one knew who they really were.

"Anyway, our next act is a friend of ours only known as Mog Moogle, who has some major dancing skill to show everyone. Take it, Mog!" Zidane again gestured towards the curtain, which opened once again to reveal a clear stage, devoid of the screen that had accompanied Gogo.

A short guy that reminded Vincent strongly of Reeve's friend Moog he had seen once or twice walked on stage with confidence and an easy gait. He was clad entirely in white, with a pair of strap-on reddish batwings attached to his back. Even his hair was white, although it was parted by an extremely thin stalk holding a small orange ball suspended above his head. His ears reminded Vincent of Reeve's, only not so prominent. They were however, pointed and seemed vaguely cat-like.

Mog took the center stage, nodding to the sides with confidence, causing the ball to bob along with his movements.

He smiled confidentally at the rest of the audience, holding his hands out. "First up..." His voice had something odd about it that made Vincent pause. Did he hear something in the background go "kupo"...? "Wind Song."

The music began and Mog began to dance. This was far different then Freya's strictly controlled dance. It ranged all over the stage, with the full use of Mog's arms and legs. Never once did Mog's wings or head-bobber (Vincent couldn't think of anything else to call it) interfere with what he was doing...in fact they matched with his motions perfectly, and it seemed that Mog had taken into account the wings and bobber while practicing the songs. The music complimented Mog perfectly as he ranged about with a grace that Vincent never would have guessed from his appearance. Vincent got a calming feel from the entire atmosphere, however, and it was pleasant.

"Forest Suite!" Mog called out, and the music segued nicely into a different kind of tone, which changed Mog's kind of dance. His dance became more subtle and controlled, involving his arms more then anything else, and he moved around the stage with far more grace then before. Vincent felt somewhat cold and alone, and he was confused. He wasn't aware music had this kind of affect on him.

Mog stopped dead for a moment before speaking again. "Desert Aria."

The music changed again, suiting what he had called out, but never did the change seem sudden or jerky. The types of music bled into one another with great ease. Mog's motions became more like water, and he didn't move nearly as much as he had before. It focused more around his body. Vincent felt very dry, and he wondered if he was just making up emotions to go along with the music. He began to feel concerned over whether or not Mog would get tired from dancing so long...

"Love Sonata."

Again the music changed, this time becoming much more soft and slow. Mog almost seemed to take someone in his arms and begin to dance gracefully around the stage, almost ballroom dancing, although it also resembled ice skating for some reason to Vincent, with the graceful leaps and spins. He felt longing and sadness, and he didn't know why.

"Earth Blues!"

The music became more bluesy, more mellow, and Mog's dance became slower, but more sensual in a bizarre way. His whole body became involved again, his steps light but controlled and timed perfectly. He could sense the girl sitting next to him shifting slightly. It must have made her uncomfortable...There was a barely controlled energy in Mog that Vincent could sense. He felt more invigorated and much more freer then he had before, and he began to move back and forth along with the catchy beat of the music.

Mog stopped, one leg in the air with his arms poised above him, before speaking, not looking towards the audience. "Water Rondo."

The music took on a different beat, more of a repetition, but one that seemed different then Vincent had heard before. In accordance, Mog began to move with a repetitive motion, yet each time it seemed slightly different. Vincent couldn't tell whether or not he was moving or not, and he felt kind of oppressed for some reason, like he was under something. He had to be making these feelings up...

Pausing with his back arched and his arms behind him, Mog spoke again. "Dusk Requiem."

The music took on a deeply somber tone, much more so then any of the other songs that Mog had gone through, and Mog began to move very slowly and very sadly. Vincent felt a pang of depression hit his heart, and he sunk back into his chair. The dance seemed to sap him of all strength. Mog continued slowly, almost as if mourning, before speaking again from a kneeling position, his face covered.

"Snowman Jazz!"

The music suddenly picked up tempo, and Mog spun out of his kneeling position with grace and ease, shocking Vincent out of his depressed state. The music's liveliness and emotion was captured easily in Mog's free and wild motions, his arms and legs moving almost of their own free will. Mog ended the dance with his arms and legs spread out into the air, his head thrown back, and he smiled as the the song finally ended.

The applause that greeted him was amazing, and he smiled in response, his eyes nearly disappearing. He waved to the audience before moving off stage. Vincent noticed how he dragged his feet, and wondered just how tired Mog had to be.

"Thank you, Mog! That was great!" Zidane clapped as he took center stage, smiling as he flicked another card out of thin air. "Our last act for tonight..."

Everyone in the audience began booing, and Zidane waved them off airily. "You know it's got to end sometime, right? Our last act for tonight are two that you've probably seen around school. They sell you books, make your food, sell you your supplies, deal with your mail...hey, give me something they DON'T do!" Zidane gestured broadly out, and Vincent realized who he had to be talking about...

"Please welcome the twins we know and love as Zorn and Thorn, as they give their rendition of a song they composed themselves, Jesters of the Moon!"

Zidane backed off, still clapping, as the rest of the audience clapped as well, Vincent among them. He wondered what the two were doing...

The curtains opened to reveal the two of them in the process of pushing a piano into center stage. It only took seconds before it was in place, and the two of them lept onto the piano bench nearby. Vincent stared...where was their sheet music...? They couldn't have memorized it, could they...?

Zorn took the lower half of the keyboard, while Thorn took the upper half, and, with a nod, they both began playing.

The music fit their characters perfectly, a light, fun song that had two completely different parts that melded into one. The notes were light and quick, and the two of them played each part without a single mistake. At one part in the song they both went in opposite directions on the keys, but the music still managed to come together.

It wasn't until they were comfortable into the song that it began to get unbelievable.

Zorn exchanged glances with Thorn, and they continued playing for a few moments until there was a short pause. At this pause, Thorn rolled to one side, Zorn lept over him, and they continued playing as if nothing had happened, only completely switching their places at the piano. The sound of the bells at the tips of their hats matched along with the song, and with every movement they took, the bells matched with the song, as if it were completely planned. 

The song continued on as if nothing had happened, and Vincent watched in amazement, beginning to wonder if it had actually happened or not.

The top of the piano was closed, something that was quickly brought to Vincent's attention as Thorn lept over his own hands, turning in midair so he landed skillfully on his stomach on the top of the piano, not even making any kind of noise as he continued to play from his vantage point on top of the piano, his fingers not faltering once even though he was now technically playing upside down and backwards.

Vincent continued to watch, amazed, as Thorn rolled onto his back and flipped back into the piano seat with ease, still not missing a single beat. The two melodies continued to coincide, one going up the piano while one went down.

With a smoothness that surprised him, Zorn and Thorn's hands began to switch, with Thorn's right hand playing Zorn's left part and vice versa. Again, there was not a single change in the tone of the song, and the notes continued to ring out as clearly and brightly as they had at the beginning, without a single mistake. They again did a roll, switching positions during a momentary pause, and then Thorn took over the keyboard entirely for a moment. Zorn took this moment to perform a complete acrobatic backflip neatly onto the top of piano, landing so softly Vincent could not believe that he weighed anything. Not even pausing to take a breath, Zorn did a sideways flip where Thorn was sitting, who slid down the bench until he took the upper half once again, and Zorn took the same position that Thorn had taken just a moment ago, laying on the piano, although this time he closed his eyes and crossed his arms so his left and right hands were playing their opposites. 

Vincent could not believe it, and yet the music played on, completely perfect, capturing the essence of what was happening.

Zorn continued to play blind, his perspective of the keys skewed in so many ways that Vincent could not count them all, and then he opened his eyes long enough to do a flip back onto the piano bench, only he was facing the audience. His arms remained behind him, and for a few moments he played from that position before turning back around to where he was.

Thorn did a complete 360 spin on the piano bench before going back to where he had been playing without error, continuing to play the song with his twin. The two of them played for a few moments, and Vincent again began to doubt he had seen what he had just seen. Their fingers continued to play over the keys, striking each chord and each note as if it was as natural as breathing to them.

Again they did a leap and a roll, only this time Thorn rolled completely off the piano bench, Zorn continuing to play, landing in a kneeling position for only a moment. He did another perfect backflip onto the piano stand, this time landing on his hands. He then continued to flip once more backwards, leaving the bench entirely. During this Zorn rolled underneath him, and Thorn landed neatly on his feet, kneeling on the bench and again taking his part in the song, playing perfectly. Again, there were no skips or misses in the song, and Vincent watched completely stunned.

They continued playing for a moment before again engaging in their amazing acrobatics, this time with Thorn performing a flip up into the air to land perfectly on Zorn's shoulders. The shock should have at least jarred Zorn's hands out of position, and yet they continued to play, Thorn leaning over Zorn's shoulder to play his part on the piano, the two moving away from each other in time for the contradicting melodies, then moving back together again to rejoin the song as it once had been.

At a slight pause in the song, Zorn ducked his head, and Thorn rolled off to one side, catching himself in a dramatic fashion on the edge of the piano, while Zorn mirrored his motion perfectly. They again moved back into the song with ease, continuing to play.

The song moved into an energetic finale, in which they began to leap and roll back and forth so quickly that it was hard to see them, and the music continued onwards, unbroken. The song finally ended with a double flourish at either side of the piano, and the two flipping off the piano bench at diagonals, nearly striking eachother, but landing perfectly next to one another, their hands crossing in the air as they held their arms up, their narrow chests gasping for breath.

The applause was thunderous. Vincent even stood up and clapped, having been thoroughly amazed and moved by their performance. He wasn't the only one. Zorn and Thorn actually smiled, seemingly genuinely happy that their performance had gone over so well, and they made their way off the stage, still breathing heavily.

"Wow." Zidane took the center stage again, clapping himself. "Just wow. They've got some major talent, don't you think? Okay, here's the part we've been waiting for. Now you're going to decide who deserves the two hundred gil prize! I'll read off the act and the participants, and you clap according to how much you think they deserve the award."

The pile of cards once again seemed to appear in Zidane's hand, and he read them off slowly.

"Mukki and his Manly Tumbling!"

There was some applause to this, but Vincent hadn't expected a great deal of support anyway.

"Zangan, Tifa, Sabin, and Yang's martial arts!"

There was a great deal of applause for this, but Vincent decided to reserve his applause for someone he felt truly deserved it.

"Freya and the Eternal Harvest!"

There was clapping for her, more so then for Mukki but not more then the four martial artists, and Vincent felt relieved. He had hoped that she would get the recognition she deserved for such a skillful display. Vincent kept his hands at his sides, however.

"Celes and the Aria de Mezzo Carattere!"

The crowd clapped very loudly for Celes, more so then for anyone else so far, and Vincent felt it was justified. But he didn't want to clap, not just yet.

"Quina, Quale, and Quan in the Iron Qu competition!"

They also got applause, but it matched the amount Mukki and his friends had got.

"Kain and Cecil's Duel for Rosa!"

There was clapping for this, but it wasn't too enthusiastic, going along with the Iron Qu's and the Manly Tumbling.

"Locke and the secret arts!"

There was a great deal of clapping for this, a little less then the Martial Arts display.

"Cid and Reeve and the @#%hole song!"

There was a lot of clapping for this, matching the Martial Arts display, but so far no one had surpassed Celes' Aria. Vincent continued to keep his hands near his sides.

"Mog and the Elemental Dances!"

Vincent was tempted to clap, but he finally refrained. The clapping for this was was very much, but it still did not meet up with Celes' Aria.

Zidane smiled. "And finally...Zorn and Thorn and the Jesters of the Moon!"

Vincent finally let himself clap. The applause for this finally matched up with the Aria, and the competition was very fierce. Zidane motioned for the crowd to be silent.

"Alright, since there's a tie between Celes and Zorn and Thorn, we'll have a tie-breaking round, alright? If you want Celes..."

The audience again clapped and cheered loudly.

"And if you want Zorn and Thorn..."

Vincent clapped along with the others who joined him, cheering and waving. Zidane looked torn.

"This is a tough decision here guys...but I'm going to have to say..."

He held up a hand. "That the prize goes to Celes Chere! Come out here, Celes!"

The woman came out from behind the curtains, walking towards Zidane with a purpose. Zidane turned to the crowd.

"You'll also get a trophy to commemorate the...hey!" Celes snatched the microphone out of Zidane's hand and began speaking earnestly.

"I, Celes Chere, am hereby relinquishing my title and my prize to Zorn and Thorn. They deserve it far more then I do, and have much more use for it."

She gave the microphone back to Zidane, who took it in bewilderment. The crowd went insane.

It took several minutes for everyone to quiet down until Zidane could be heard. "Um...are you sure?"

Celes nodded.

"Alright then." Zidane shrugged. "Zorn and Thorn, would you come out here please?"

In complete contradiction to the fearless confidence they had exuded while playing their piece on the piano, the diminuitive twins poked their heads out from behind the curtain, looking frightened and embarrassed. Celes gestured to them.

"Come on, come on. You deserve this."

The two of them made their way to the podium amidst thunderous applause, Vincent clapping as much as the rest of them. Zorn and Thorn stood awkwardly, both of them blushing although it was obvious they were trying not to.

Zidane reached into the podium and pulled out a small silver trophy, handing it to Zorn who took it in confusion. "Here you go, guys! Enjoy!"

Both Zorn and Thorn mumbled something incoherent underneath their breaths, looking shaky but very happy. Zidane handed them the microphone. "Here, you guys say something."

Zorn took it, his hands shaking terribly. "U...um..." He turned towards Celes, who was smiling down at them. "Th-thank you...this r-really helps us..."

"Thorn?" Celes gestured towards the red jester twin, who shook his head in embarrassment and hid behind his brother. Zorn rolled the microphone between his fingers nervously.

"H-he's fine, he doesn't like t-talking in front of other people..."

Zidane finally dug out a slip of white paper which he gave to the twins, extending a hand for the microphone which Zorn surrendered willingly. "Here's your check guys, don't spend it all in one place!"

Zorn and Thorn nodded, and Vincent clapped for them again, glad that they had won. When Zorn turned to face his brother, he found him rubbing his eyes, crying. When he finally removed his hands, tears continued to slide down his skin, but the expression on his face showed he was anything but sad.

The two of them made their way off the stage amidst the applause of everyone in the audience, who clapped for them even after they had left. Celes waved and made her way off stage as well, also amidst a great deal of clapping.

Zidane finally took the stage, wiping away a mock tear as he sighed. "Really warms your heart, doesn't it? This really brings out the best in people. Thanks for coming to the Talent Show, and thanks to everyone who participated. Come again next year!"

Zidane waved as people began to get up and leave, chattering amongst themselves over what had just happened. Vincent himself felt extremely good, knowing that the money had gone to someone who really needed and wanted it, and he was happy to know that Celes was one of the very few good people left in the world.

He headed outside, taking a seat on a bench and waiting before he knew Cid and Reeve would emerge.

Cid was the first to find him, smiling. He slowed as he approached Vincent, Reeve close behind him with the guitar strapped to his back. "Hey."

"Hey." Vincent smiled back at him. With that, all the bad feelings that had built between them melted away, and Vincent felt happy again.

"Sorry about..."

"Don't worry about it."

Cid sat next to Vincent on the bench, smiling as Reeve took his other side.

"Wasn't that cool or what?" Reeve smiled broadly. "I feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"So do I." Vincent leaned his arms on his knees and smiled, catching a glimpse of the jester twins walking off with their trophy in tow, Zorn lending Thorn support, who apparently still couldn't believe what had happened. He smiled. "So do I." 


	13. Back to Class

Author's Note

Thanks ta everyone who's reviewed or otherwise shown their support fer my fic. ^_^ It only helps ta inspire me, it really does. I love feedback, love it ta death. ^_^ 

Ah yes, and if anyone is interested, my fanart fer this fic can be found at Shattered, my Cid and Vincent shrine at www.cidvin-shattered.cjb.net. And if anyone is readin Zorn and Thorn's companion fic fer this, fanart I've done fer that is at http://members.tripod.com/~Zarla_S/ZornThorn.html. In case ya wanna see how I visualize a lotta da peeps in this. ^_^

Again, thanks fer yer support, and don't worry, this fic won't be endin fer a very, VERY long time. ^_^ 

The three companions sat on the bench for a while, just enjoying the warm night air and afterglow of such a happy and fun-filled time. Vincent started as he suddenly remembered something.

"Highwind, what happened to your crutches?"

Cid blinked for a few moments, then he shrugged carelessly and waved a hand in someone's general direction. "Eh, I don't need no #$^#in' crutches, I'm fine..."

Vincent glanced down at Cid's feet, which were hidden from view by his shoes. He felt some misgivings and stared at Cid intently. "Are you sure? Because the nurse said..."

"Ah, #$^# what th' nurse said." Cid waved again. "M'feet are fine, don't worry 'bout it. They stung a bit yesterday, an' then today..." Cid threw his arms in the air. "Pow! Perfect feet!"

Vincent smiled softly as Reeve began laughing. "Feet don't go 'pow'."

Cid stood, wincing slightly as the customary dizzy spell hit him. He refused to show almost any outward sign of it though, but Vincent could see by his unfocused eyes that he was having difficulty. It passed quickly, and Cid acted as if nothing had happened, putting his hands in his pockets as he smiled at Vincent, leaning back on his heels without any pain. He truly must have felt better to be able to do such a thing. 

"#$^#, Vin, you must got some freak-feet or somethin'. How 'bout you, catface, do your feet go POW!?" Cid shouted his last word, garnering some attention from people still leaving the theater.

Reeve rolled his eyes and played along. "Of COURSE, spazbrain, my feet go pow ALL the time. I can barely control it."

Cid smiled broadly and held his arms out, his eyes shining. Vincent noticed the change in his behavior...apparely getting the entire argument out of the way had really taken a lot off of Cid's mind. 

"Well c'mon, let's go do somethin' before they go POW again!" Cid shouted once more. Vincent brushed himself off and stood, turning to see if Reeve was following his movements, which he was.

"What do you want to do?"

Cid looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping his chin with one finger. "Hmmmm..."

"Let's go back to my room." Reeve volunteered. "I bet Moog'll love company."

"Sounds good to me!" Cid spoke before Vincent opened his mouth and began walking, causing Vincent to shake his head and smile slightly again. "Let's go!"

~~~

The weekend passed without much incident, which was a great relief to Cid and Vincent, whose lives had become overly complicated as it was. They spent most of their time in Reeve's room, watching movies and TV and just having a good time. There hadn't been homework for any of them yet, which meant it would probably be the last time they had a worry-free weekend in a while.

Moog joined in with them when they watched TV or played games, so Vincent didn't feel guilty about leaving him out or anything of that nature. Vincent tried to became friends with Moog, who seemed to appreciate his efforts. The large silent boy reminded him so much of Mog and when he asked him about it, Moog shrugged enigmatically. So Vincent let the matter drop.

While there, he found while playing one of Reeve's many video game systems that he had an unnatural talent for shooting games, and his aim was remarkable. He was surprised that he was able to play games at all, considering his left arm, and at first had tried to talk his way out of playing with them, but the rest of them managed to convince him to at least try, and he found that his claw arm wasn't too big of an inconvenience. Vincent wasn't the best player there, Cid and Reeve far surpassing him, but he enjoyed playing with them anyway.

When Vincent did return to his room, Cloud was never there. He would see signs of him, like his bag or books or clothes he had left on the floor, but he never actually saw him. He noted new messages on his answering machine, which were from Cloud's parents. He stopped them once he found out they weren't for him, not wanting to intrude on his privacy, but he had no doubt as to what the calls would be about.

When Sunday came, Vincent and Cid opted to return back to Vincent's room, waving goodbye to Reeve and Moog who were somewhat sorry to see them go. Vincent and Cid hadn't wanted to leave either, having spent such a worry-free time there, but knew they had to at some point. 

Once in Vincent's room, Vincent almost automatically turned the TV on, and Cid began to play a cup-and-ball toy he had bought on impulse while the four had been wandering around town. Cid propped himself up on a chair, his feet on Vincent's desk, as he distractedly played with the toy he had bought himself. Vincent flipped to a random channel, not really watching but prefering the background to be filled with noise, no matter what it happened to be.

"Think th' group'll be full of wackos?" Cid asked as Vincent had just settled, the remote resting next to him. Vincent turned to face him.

"Hmm?"

Cid rolled his eyes as if there was no reason on earth that Vincent should have misheard him. "Th' drug group we $^@#in' have to go to. Think it'll be full of crazies?"

Vincent smiled slightly, but tried to hide it. "They aren't crazy."

"Suuuuure they are!" Cid smiled and tossed his hands in the air, disrupting his own game as he gestured extravagantly. "They're aaaaalll crazy. And they're comin' for yoooooouuuu." Cid waved his hands at Vincent in a bizarre way, which caused Vincent to laugh quietly for a few moments, his hand over his mouth.

"They are not, stop that."

"But seriously..." Cid resumed playing his cup and ball game, the previous overzealous expression disappearing into a more natural smile. "Think they'll be crazy?"

Vincent smiled as he changed the channel, not really watching, his voice soft but level. "If you mean, do I think they'll be nice, then I suppose so. I can't say, though, because I don't know anyone else who's going, except Strife."

"Hmmm..." Cid continued playing for a few moments before speaking, his voice lacking the carefree tone it had before. Vincent glanced at him to find him staring at the cup and ball, but not because that was what was focusing his attention. He seemed slightly distracted, no doubt quite worried about what was going to happen the next day. Vincent himself felt worried but decided not to mention it. "Hope they're not crazy."

The ball finally landed in the cup, and Vincent flicked the channel once again, sighing slightly. "I hope so as well, Highwind..."

~~~

Cid left earlier that evening, knowing they both had classes the next day, and Vincent went to sleep shortly after that, slipping into a dreamless sleep, something that he was thankful for. He had been growing weary of the constant nightmares that had come night after night.

The next day found him standing in the center of his room early in the morning, staring at a slip of paper held with his metallic claw, pinpoint tips holding onto the slip of paper with practiced skill. The other hand was held to his lips as he mumbled to himself. "Arrowny said that class was being moved to eight in the morning...but my schedule says that it's later this afternoon..."

Vincent was tired and he didn't want to go to his class, but he shouldered his bag in annoyance and sighed. "Doesn't hurt to check..."

As he walked back to his desk to get his walkman, he chanced a glance over at Cloud's side of the room, finding the blonde still asleep. He must have come in some time last night. He felt a slight tinge of jealousy that Cloud didn't have to get up at such an ungodly hour to go to such an annoying class.

Shrugging, Vincent put the walkman into one of his large pockets and put his headphones on, turning up the volume as he left his room, closing the door behind him. He tried to keep his thoughts away from what he'd have to deal with later tonight, and decided that he was going to focus more on the day itself then what was going to come.

Thankfully, he had left his overly heavy and bulky toolkit at the Art building, so he wouldn't have to drag that along with him as he walked the distance from his dorm to the class. With the music on, the time went quickly, and he opened the door to his classroom, greeted by the sight of no one there.

Giving a very long, deep sigh, Vincent turned on the dormant lights and found a desk near the corner, complete with easel, which he headed for immediately. He dropped his backpack and leaned back, regaining his breath as he stared around the deserted room.

He didn't see any signs of any other people...no backpacks or papers or anything...maybe he HAD been wrong, and the class really WAS later on this afternoon...

Well, considering he didn't have anything else to go to in the morning, he decided it wouldn't hurt to wait for a while. Maybe he was just early.

He pulled his sketchbook from his backpack and let his pencil wander, mostly creating characters from Cid's stories that seemed to have taken up a great part of his mind. He leaned his head against his hand, music playing in his ears, as he drew small skeletal figures around the page, performing various activities. He smiled as he could recognize Cid rendered in his style singing, along with Reeve, with his thin pointed ears and whiplike tail. He smiled at his drawings for once, remembering what Highwind had said what seemed like so long ago, that his drawings were really good. He liked how his drawings were coming out, the proportions and the shading, the style and the like. He was actually pleased with his work for once, and that gave him a nice feeling.

He chanced a glance upward and found that several people had entered the room while he had been unaware, leaving their materials and the like around them. Vincent watched them for a few moments, recognizing the girl known as Rinoa among them. He sat in silence for a few moments, not sure of whether or not he should take off his headphones or turn his music off, then decided to leave them on until Relm herself showed up.

He changed his position in the chair so that he could draw and see the rest of the room at the same time and continued to let his pencil wander as more people filed into the room.

He noticed several figures that resembled people he had seen in the talent show and he smiled. In particular the skeletal but small figures in the corner, both with matching jester hats set above thin faces. He wondered what Zorn and Thorn were doing, as he had not seen them since the show last Friday. 

He paused in the middle of a drawing of Mog, expanding to fill the piece of paper with thin, delicate fingers and the perfect capture of motion in the middle of his dance, as he noticed Relm walking in, her hair still tied back with the bandanna she had been wearing originally. Sighing imperceptibly, he turned the volume on his headphones down, then finally stopped his music, turning his eyes towards her.

"Thank you for dealing with the schedule change so well." She placed her materials on her desk, and Vincent turned his attention back to his sketchbook, theorizing that if he could hear her, he didn't need to see her. "It was rather unplanned, but I'm glad everyone was able to handle it...Vincent."

Vincent jerked as he heard his name called, turning his head in her direction rapidly. She was staring at him with an displeased look on her face.

"I would like to have your full attention, if that's alright with you."

Vincent sighed softly and turned in his seat until he was seated properly, putting his pad of paper back onto the desk.

"Ahem..." She cleared her throat, her eyes still boring into him. Vincent continued to stare at her quizzically. If she wanted him to do something, then why didn't she just say so? Everyone in the class was staring at him at this point, and some of them wore the same expression she was wearing. Vincent felt very uncomfortable, glad he had decided to wear a long-sleeved shirt that would be able to hide his metallic claw. He tugged at his sleeve distractedly, waiting for her to say something. Her voice was tired.

"Vincent, would you please show me enough respect to at least take off your headphones?"

Vincent started, suddenly remembering the small things in his ears, and his hand flew upwards, knocking the headphones onto his shoulders, the cord snaking around his neck. She stared at him with mild displeasure for a few moments, then turned to the rest of the class. Vincent noted that some of the other students looked just as offended as he did, and he began to feel slightly angry. He wasn't directly interrupting THEM, was he? They had no right to be upset at him.

"Now that that's been taken care of, I'd like to give you all your latest project."

Vincent hoped it would be more interesting then the first one he had got, which was to draw three pictures in a book that had been provided for the class. With another start, he realized that he had not done the pictures, and he turned to his backpack, pulling the book out from its depths and grabbing his pencil, wondering if she would notice him drawing furiously.

Luckily for him, at the moment she seemed somewhat distracted with speaking to the rest of the class. He drew quickly, not even bothering to erase as the skeletal form a demon took shape on the piece of paper, wings expanding above it, blocking out the rest of the white. Vincent didn't bother to try and shade it completely, scribbling over it to indicate darkness quickly as he turned the page.

"We will be focusing on the idea of black and white for a while. I'm going to set up a series of objects in the center of the room that you will study." She gestured to a corner, where several objects were stored. "Using your charcoals, you will draw the objects with as much contrast as possible."

Vincent finished a sketch of one of Cid's characters, turning the page once again. His drawings were getting big and sharp, points ending and overlapping in his haste. He hated having to rush like this, but he had no other choice.

"If you're all paying attention..."

Her voice caused his pencil to go faster. He noted with a sharp stab of annoyance a large error he had made, but he didn't have the time to go back and correct it. Finishing quickly, he fairly slammed the book shut as he looked upwards, noting Relm's and the rest of the class's eyes on him. Feeling awkward, he slid the book back into his backpack, trying to feign nonchalance.

"We may begin. I need some volunteers to help me move the objects around..."

Several people stood, and Relm began to direct them to pick up various objects, setting them up in the center of the room. Vincent watched quietly, but he caught the people helping shooting him glances. Vincent again felt somewhat angry. Were they upset because he wasn't helping? It was obvious there were enough people to perform the task required without his help. He crossed his arms, refusing to feel guilty for something he didn't need to do anyway.

Eventually, the construct in the center of the room resembled a platform of sorts made of cubes that had only edges, no substance between the lines that defined them. Draped across several of these skeleton cubes were sheets of fabric of varied textures, and there were various light sources attached to cubes, providing the thing in the center of the room with several contradicting forms of light.

Vincent stared at it for a moment, sighing as he looked at the incredible amount of detail that he'd have to put into it.

"Get some paper out of your portfolio, there should be some in there." Relm was doing small touchups on the pile of cubes in the center of the room. "Your charcoal should be in your box."

Vincent sighed and stood, going to where he had stored his portfolio and his toolbox. He had stored them in one of the lockers nearby, using one of the locks he had brought from home. He unlocked the locker, grabbed the two bulky objects, and returned to his seat, pulling out the sheet of paper and setting it up on the easel. He then opened his box, finding almost all the supplies inside jumbled from the harsh treatment they had had getting to the art building in general. He searched through it until he found a small box containing four charcoal sticks.

"The sticks are in the box according to their hardness." Relm pointed out as she sat back down. "The softer the charcoal, the broader and softer the stroke. It goes softest, soft, hard, hardest."

Vincent pulled the small set of sticks out, staring at them in mild confusion. There was no identifying marks on the sticks, just simply four identical chunks of charcoal, lined up in a row with no kind of marks or labels. Shrugging, Vincent picked the first one he saw and put the rest in his box, lifting his hand towards the paper he had set up.

The charcoal stick slipped from his fingers, falling towards the floor. Vincent grabbed for it quickly, but it slipped past his grasp and hit the floor with a loud crack, fracturing into three different pieces. He glanced up to notice Relm staring at him with disapproval, and he quickly gathered the broken pieces, putting the smaller chunks back in his box, thus leaving him with one about half the size as it was previously.

"Remember to be careful with your supplies, class. They're your best friend when it comes to art." Relm shot a glance at him as she spoke, and she wasn't the only one. Vincent sighed deeply and felt a sharp rise in cynicism rising in him to deal with his unhappiness. Wisely deciding that it would be better to keep it inside, he began to work, sketching out the cubes with quick, broken strokes.

He outlined where the cubes would go, then where the drapery would go over them. Noting a mistake, he nearly flipped the charcoal piece over in an attempt to erase it before he realized it had no eraser. He turned towards Relm, who was watching his progress with a steadily increasing frown. She spoke before he even ventured to ask. "There should be a piece of chamois in your boxes that will let you erase or blend your work."

Vincent turned to his box, finding the fabric easily. It was smooth and felt nice on his skin, but he quickly rubbed at the mistake he had made, finding to his dismay that it only blurred. Annoyed, but not sure of what else to do, he simply worked around it, continuing to block out the structure carefully.

"Remember, in order to have the correct proportions for your work to sight." Relm took a pencil from her desk, holding it up as an example. Vincent watched with confusion as she closed one eye and held the pencil out at arms length, exactly as he had seen every stereotypical caricature of an artist do. "Use the length of the pencil to gauge how long a line is, and what angle it goes at."

Everyone else in the class immediately began to do so, but Vincent found the entire process somewhat unnecessary. He could see how long a line was from where he was fine, without closing his eyes and looking stupid. Noting everyone staring at him, however, he sighed and acquiesced, holding out his right hand at an awkward angle, crossing it over his chest in order to sight correctly.

"No, Vincent." Hearing his name again made him wince, wondering what he had done wrong this time. "You have to use the hand closest to your subject."

Vincent rolled his eyes to himself and sighed, pushing his sleeve over his claw, holding onto the charcoal stick so that the metal was completely hidden, holding it out and pretending to sight before returning it back to his side. She noted his odd behavior, but thankfully decided not to comment on it.

Vincent, having blocked in the majority of the picture, began to shade it as well. This became rather engrossing for him, and he worked and blurred as best he could, trying to get the textures correct. The drapery proved to cause the most trouble for him, absolutely refusing to look anything like any cloth he had ever seen. He was getting frustrated, and he tried not to take it out on his drawing, although he noted his fingers turning an dark shade of black from his extended exposure to the charcoal stick. He even tried using the other sticks, but he had lost track of which way went soft and which way went soft, so he randomly chose one and tried it. They all seemed to work the same to him, and he began to wonder whether or not he was just unobservant or he just couldn't tell the difference.

The time in the class this way passed quickly, Relm occasionally walking around and giving advice to people who were still trying to set the angles of the cubes right. Vincent began to wonder if maybe he was going too fast, or maybe he had done it wrong. No one else was as far along as he was...

He was beginning to hope that maybe he'd get through the rest of the class without incident, but he was never so lucky. Near the end of class, he was kneeling in close, smudging and working hard in order to make the fabric appear more real, and he felt a presence near him. He jumped as Relm held up a hand.

"It's only me."

Vincent nodded and, not sure of what he should do, leaned back so that she could see what he had done so far. She studied his work for a while, not saying anything. Vincent began to hope that maybe he had completed the assignment successfully, but she began to speak before his hopes could truly even take flight.

"This line here..." She pointed at one of the edges of the cubes near the corner. "It's somewhat crooked...did you sight it?"

Vincent felt a huge sigh want to escape him, but refused to let it out. His response sounded more cynical and sarcastic then he originally intended. He didn't feel like saying that he hadn't done it, so opted for the easy way out. "Of course I sighted it."

"This line here..." She pointed at another area of the work. "It's also kind of crooked. I'm confused as to where your light source is here..." She pointed at another area. "It's very confusing. There's a great deal of black and grey, but I don't see enough white. You need to have more contrast."

Vincent stared at his work with distaste. He had gotten tired of working on this thing when he had put down his first line, and now he had to keep working on it? And how was he supposed to make more white areas? This was charcoal, and he had learned the hard way that it was almost impossible to make a white area white again once the black had been rubbed against it. He sighed imperceptibly, wondering how long until the class would be over.

"This line here is too sharp as well...it IS fabric, it needs to be softer. Not so angular." She gestured towards the work. "You've got to show a little more dedication to your work."

Vincent narrowed his eyes, disgust filling him. How could he be dedicated to something he didn't care about? He was planning on throwing away this horrific piece of "art" as soon as the day was over. She turned to the rest of the class, holding her arms out wide.

"The projects will be due on Wednesday, so be sure to finish them by then. See you then."

The rest of the students packed up their belongings, Vincent among them, glad that the class was finally over.

When he went to the sink to wash the black away from his fingers, he found it wouldn't come off. Severely annoyed, he was forced to roll his long sleeves up above the metal attached to his arm, revealing the entire golden metallic claw, something he hated. He rubbed at his fingers as best he could with his ineffectual claws, glad the metal was waterproof, but the black stayed. He rubbed some soap on it and continued to scrub, not wanting any traces of his art class to follow him, wanting to forget the aggravating part of his day as fast as possible.

He noted someone behind him, and he turned slightly, seeing the familiar blue and black that indicated the girl Rinoa. She had her hands behind her back, and she was looking over Vincent's shoulder with interest, watching his movements without saying anything.

Vincent did not have the patience for this.

"What are you staring at?" His voice was venemous and low. Rinoa didn't seem to notice or care, pointing with clean fingers at his metallic claw. Instead of the normal embarrassment and shame he felt when his deformity was mentioned, Vincent only felt hatred.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." Vincent's reply was very short, and he returned his attention back to his hand, which was turning somewhat red from all the rubbing it had endured, but kept the black stains. He was getting more frustrated and more upset with each moment, and was just hoping that Rinoa would take the hint and leave him alone.

"Is it symbolic or something?"

Vincent stopped for a moment to stare at her in utter disbelief. She looked genuinely curious, her arms back behind her back. She was leaning forward, eyes blinking at him in fascination. "I mean, does it stand for something? Like your unity with some country that's suffering or something? Or does it stand for something that happened to you or for how you feel? I'm just curious, it looks like you spent a lot of time on it. It's really nice."

Vincent stared at her in complete silence for several moments, unbelieving, as the expression in his eyes changed from bewilderment to fury in a few moments. He shook his hand and claw dry, not wanting to bother with drying them with a paper towel, and walked away without a word, fuming.

"Hey, wait! I just want to know! Come on!" Rinoa called after him, but Vincent ignored her, moving towards his desk and grabbing his backpack in one angry motion, swinging it onto his back.

He had forgotten that his backpack was open.

He heard the crash, but more then that he knew it was coming from the sudden shift in weight when he had felt the bag hit his back. His books struck his easel forcefully, knocking it and all the things that had been resting on it to the ground with a clatter, papers flying everywhere. There was a pause, then Vincent turned slowly, putting his backpack down with deliberate motions and slowly, mechanically, began to pick up the spilt pieces of paper, his body trembling with his attempts to control his emotions.

He had never felt so angry or so frustrated, but he struggled to clear his mind, trying to keep himself under control. This was hardly the time or place to have an emotional outburst. He slid his sketchbook back into his backpack, along with the book that he was required to draw in for this class. He slowly moved around the room, picking up the papers with quick snatching motions, noting that either everyone had left, or no one felt like helping him.

He felt so furious, so angry. He crumpled one of his papers in his claw, trying to vent in some way. He felt a strong pain coming from his back, and he could not believe his terrible luck. Not only did he have to deal with this, his back had begun to hurt for no apparent reason.

He continued to walk around the room, picking up the pieces of paper that had fallen, adding them to the pile that was building in his arms. He made his way slowly back to his backpack, stuffing the papers in without any pretense of care. He would sort it all out later when he wasn't so upset.

He felt something tap his side and he whirled around, breathing quickly, muscles tensed, his body screaming at him to do something to relieve his tension.

Rinoa was holding out some of the books he had missed, still looking oblivious. She smiled at him. "I could have told you that was going to happen you know."

Vincent narrowed his eyes into slits as he fairly tore the books from her grasp, thrusting them into his backpack with a furious motion, ignoring the crumpling sound from the papers that he had placed so haphazardly inside. He refused to speak, counting within his mind in an effort to keep himself under control.

Ten...nine...

Rinoa busied herself setting Vincent's easel back up on it's legs, brushing it off carefully before turning back to Vincent, who was pushing the last of his books into his bag.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

Eight...seven...

Vincent tried to keep his breathing regular. His back was aching now, stabbing pains right at his shoulderblades. He had to keep calm, he couldn't blow up here, not now. He had to keep himself under control.

"I just want to know why you're hiding your hand. I mean, is it a symbol of how society ties someone up? You know, takes their freedoms away?" Rinoa leaned over him, her hands again behind her back.

Six...five...

"Or is it like a symbol about how you're distanced from everyone? 'Cause you're really quiet, so that might be it."

Four...three...

He was almost done. He zipped up his bag securely this time and hefted it onto his back, turning away from Rinoa without an answer, trying to keep the rising tide of anger at bay.

"Or maybe is it about your family? Or college?" Rinoa stood, brushing herself off before trying to make eye contact with him again. Vincent was stubbornly refusing to meet eyes with her as he struggled to control his breathing. "Or is it some kind of vampire thing? You know, the whole goth scene and whatever? 'Cause you really look like the type to be into that kind of thing, really..."

Two...one...

"I'm just curious, you know." Vincent walked towards the door with quick, fast steps, his hand already on the doorknob as he could hear her following him, still talking. "You're just so quiet. I just want to talk to you, you know. I mean, anyone who wears a claw as an artists statement must be pretty cool, right? Not to mention I think your drawings were really pretty good. Can I see some-"

Vincent turned for a moment, holding the door open with one hand as he glared at her, struggling to keep his temper. This was enough to stop her for a few seconds, apparently sensing that he was finally going to say something. He held his breath for a few seconds, closed his eyes, and finally spoke.

"Don't talk to me. Ever."

He slammed the door shut, not bothering to see the look on her face, as he stormed down the hallway, his metal claw clenching uncontrollably. He could hear the door opening behind him, and he almost began running, not wanting to deal with her for another moment.

"Meanie!" 

He could hear her voice calling after him, and he ignored it, rolling his eyes as he took deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down, deciding to head to the dining hall for a snack before heading to his next class, needing a place where he could collect his thoughts after such a horrific experience. 


	14. Tellah, Hojo, and Zorn and Thorn

~Author's Note~

Hey again. ^_^ Another note, if yer interested in seein my fanart fer Zorn and Thorn from this fic (whom I love fer no logical reason whatsoever) ya can visit my shrine ta them at http://members.tripod.com/~Zarla_S/ZornThorn.html. ^_^ Thanks again fer readin and reviewin. ^_^ 

  
"Highwind, this is NOT what was assigned."

Cid rolled his eyes, sliding down further into his chair as he crossed his arms, muttering under his breath.

"#$%@in' can't appreciate..."

His professor put down the offending paper on Cid's desk, apparently getting angrier at Cid's lack of submission. "I don't understand how you plan on succeeding in life if you can't follow simple instructions."

Cid glared at the professor, his eyes almost hidden underneath small spikes that protruded from behind his goggles band. "I wrote you a #$^#in' paper, ain't that enough for you?"

The professor sighed again, crossing his arms and staring down at Cid with the same condescending look that Cid had learned to hate through his life. All teachers had that look. "I asked for a short summary of the events that have made you who you are today, and instead you give me this. This does not fulfill the requirements."

Cid kept his arms crossed, struggling to keep his voice under control. "It IS my god#$%@ life, but it's told a different way."

His professor sighed, his voice easily showing his quickly fraying patience. "You mind your language while in this class, Highwind. This story has nothing to do with who you are, what you're doing, or what brought you here."

"It has everythin' t'do with how I got here!" Cid slammed a fist down on the desk furiously, trying to keep the all-too familiar obscenities from his speech. He could feel the eyes of the rest of the class on him, which only fueled his indignation.

"Highwind, this is supposed to be a story about YOU, not someone who vaguely resembles you in some fantasy dimension!"

Cid was about to rise up and respond, but the professor turned away from him. "This conversation is over, and if you want to discuss it further with me, meet with me after class."

Cid clenched his fists until his fingers hurt, slumping back into his seat with multiple muttered words under his breath. "Old #$^#er..."

He hated writing classes, they were all the same. Go a little away from the assignment, try something new, and they jumped all over you. They always claimed to value creativity, but submit something that was REALLY creative, and they said you didn't follow the rules. As it was he managed to get the writing class who had a total #$^# for a teacher, and it just figured considering Cid's luck. He loved creative writing, but all his creative writing classes had been about anything but that. Fortunately his parents weren't aware of how he loved to write at all, therefore he didn't get signed up into one of the even more obnoxious weekend classes or something along those lines. He hated the entire concept of weekend classes, believing that weekends were HIS time to be spent how HE wanted, not being dragged to some class that was supposed to make his writing "better". He harbored a deep resentment towards writing classes for that very concept of making you be able to write "better", and he always resisted what they said or taught vehemently, refusing to absorb or accept anything they presented to him. This enfuriated his teachers to no end, and Cid replied in kind.

He had gotten his ability to write from the books he had read and the things he had learned, not from writing papers on preassigned topics. He chose books that he liked, books that he found were a challenge, books that he felt had a message, and he always avoided the classics, finding them to be far too over-hyped. He read voraciously when he was younger, and still did to this day. When he let his imagination wander, he found all the things he had picked up from the different authors that he read and liked beginning to show through, and he had practiced as much as possible, his skill only improving with time. Not with writing classes.

All of his writing classes had always been abysmal, and he hated structured writing, particularly essays. There was nothing more soulless to him then an essay, a vague, spineless paper performed and executed to such particular guidelines about such a particular topic, touching on particular points, and if you didn't follow the guidelines correctly, you failed. Cid narrowed his eyes with the memory of one of his papers on one of the "star-crossed lovers" stories he had been forced to read in one of his english classes once where he had wrote supporting their death, saying they were better off that way. That had got him not only a failing grade, but several meetings with the school counselor.

He hated having to mask how he felt through carefully worded opinions that wouldn't go against what the teacher was teaching. He hated having to pretend to go along with everyone else. He believed in his opinions and felt they had a right to be heard, and he hated writing classes for muffling not only that, but his entire talent by constricting it to such a small, confined allowed area.

He hated writing classes.

Cid breathed quickly, trying to control his temper. He hated this class, just as he had hated all of his previous writing classes, and he wished for nothing more then to have a cigarette in his mouth, just for the ability to blow smoke in the face of Prof. Tellah.

"Now, would someone would like to read their paper that followed the assignment properly?"

Cid slumped over his desk angrily, unable to do anything to vent his anger, as someone else read their cookie-cutter story of how their one role-model, some coach or their brother or something equally trite, was enough to give them the impetus they needed to get into the college of their dreams. The stories were old, and they bored Cid. He was tired of hearing about people getting influence and guidance from the older generation. The Older Generation hadn't given Cid #$^#, and he had no god#^#@ older brother to lead the way for him, no sports coach to make him "push himself". He hated those kind of stories, and he preferred it when people were able to support themselves, were able to make their way into college not because of someone else "pushing" them, but because they actually DESIRED to go there.

But no, not a single one of the stories had any of that kind of element in them. Frustrated, Cid took a pencil and tried to sketch something on the piece of paper that was under his arms, but it only took a few lines for him to erase it angrily. He wished he could draw like Vincent could, to be able to put his ideas into visible form. He envied his friend for that, just as he envied all artists. He envied how they could just envision something and have it at their fingertips. He wished he had that ability, but it seemed that his skill forever lied in the written word, not the visible line. He had tried for so long to culminate some kind of artistic ability, but it seemed just not to be.

Unable to vent himself in that way, he dug a pen out of his backpack and pulled a dark blue book from his bag. He flipped it to a blank page, bypassing several pages filled with his heavy, dark writing, and began to write, ignoring the droning voices of the people around him.

"Eiyon was surrounded as it were, trapped in a cave. He should have watched where he was going, but that wasn't the utmost concern on his mind at the moment...he was more curious as to where Lzyndr had gone, considering he hadn't seen the other male for a few days. He heard rumors that the other had gone in this direction, but he hadn't anticipated there being large holes along the way. As it was, the air around him was getting stifling, and it was beginning to get hard to breathe..."

He noted, just as he was getting into it, a silence pervading the previous all encompassing noise that had been filling his ears.

"#$^#..." He whispered under his breath, knowing what that meant. He had done this before, several times in various classes when he got bored. When he felt like writing, he vanished, entered the world that he so longed to occupy, and this meant that his awareness of the world that was around him in reality vanished. This meant he had had several unpleasant things happen to him because of this, including but not limited to having his book snatched away, having the entire class stare at him, or having the teacher yell at him after class for quite some time.

This seemed to be turning out into one of the "Hey everyone! Let's stare at the guy who's being different!" deals, and he was beginning to hate those kind of situations the most.

He turned his head upwards to find, just as he had suspected, every eye on the room on it. Deciding to make the most of it, he made an elaborate flourish on the last word in his unfinished sentence before dropping the pen back into his book, closing it with exaggeratedly delicate and flamboyant movements.

He finally put his head in his hands and stared at Prof. Tellah who did not look amused with his antics. The biting sarcasm in Cid's voice was painfully evident. "So sorry to interrupt."

"Highwind, you will speak with me after class."

Cid rolled his eyes, causing Prof. Tellah to seethe even more, turning back to the blackboard. "I would suggest taking a less flippant attitude with your studies as well."

Cid moved his hand in a mockery of Prof. Tellah talking while the old man's back was turned, mumbling under his breath. "Blah blah, watch me pull #@#$ out of my #@$, blah blah, do what I say AND what I do, blah blah..."

Prof. Tellah turned around to find the blonde teenager staring studiously at the book he had assigned on his desk, a smile playing around his lips. "I'm not deaf, Highwind, I CAN hear you."

Cid looked up at him, large blue eyes innocent as he put a hand on his chest, looking around. "Who me? I don't know what you're talkin' about."

If Cid had some friends who were goading him on, or was sitting in the back, Tellah would have moved him in an effort to prove his authority, but as it was, Cid sat in the front, hands folded on his desk as he smiled pleasantly at the Professor, which only served to anger the man more. "Your behavior WILL have repurcussions, you realize, if you even know what that word means."

Cid narrowed his eyes at the insult to his intelligence, but managed to keep his voice light. "What, you mean the fancy word for 'consequences'? Oh dearie #$^#in' me, I ruined your little high-and-mighty routine by knowin' what that word meant! Shame on me!" Cid looked mock offended at himself.

The piece of chalk Tellah had been writing with fractured against the chalkboard as he turned slowly towards Cid, who cocked his head in a show of mock innocence.

"What's wrong, Tellah? A bit piqued? Flustered?" Cid smiled again. "Deeply disapproving of my youthful insolence?" He held his hands out, taking an exaggeratedly serious tone to his voice. "He stood, fingers quivering, nostrils flaring, facial muscles longing to express the inner fury at the young man's obvious grasp of the english language, territory he claimed to be HIS VERY OWN!"

"Highwind, you will wait outside until the class ends!" Tellah pointed towards the door, and Cid stood smoothly, the pain at such sudden movement hidden perfectly as he picked up his book, pen still trapped in its pages.

"That's what I've wanted to do this entire time."

As he walked by, he felt the book being torn from his grasp and he turned instinctively to reclaim it, finding it in Tellah's hands. Cid knew better then to attempt to get it back, only glaring at the old man who stared at him, face emotionless.

"Without your book."

Cid glared at him for a while, then finally shrugged, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "Fine. I don't need it."

He opened the door wide and walked out, letting it close behind him while he shoved his hands in his pockets. He stood in the hallway for a moment, glancing down either direction. No one seemed to be around.

He seriously considered for a moment not waiting to find out what the consequences of his actions would be, but then he shrugged and walked over to the opposite wall, sitting down and waiting. He wanted to talk to him about his paper, after all, and he might as well do it now. He doubted with a type like Tellah that waiting a few days would increase his chances of getting a better grade any.

He smiled, remembering the furious look on the old man's face as he mocked him. It was so easy to tweak people like him, and he deserved it anyway for trying to lord over Cid like that. This wasn't highschool anymore, and the teachers no longer had the authority they had back then. Cid smiled again, remembering the many arguments and problems he had caused at his old school. Not that they had authority back then either, but here the professors had even less.

Well, at least after this class he'd get to meet up with Vincent again in Hojo's class, which made him wince. That was one guy that Cid didn't want to mess with. He could tell that Hojo was serious, very serious, and he had a feeling that his attempts to ridicule or mock him would be turned around and thrown back in his face...not to mention that Hojo already had a card he could play against him, and Cid had nothing. So he didn't want to go to that class, and part of it was fear. Hojo scared him, and he didn't know why. Probably because of what he did to Vincent...

Cid clenched his fists angrily at the thought of what had happened that day...Hojo had basically #$^#ed them over with just a few guided questions, and he had even got Vincent so upset as to #$^#in' cut his own god#$#@ arm. He hated him for that, but he didn't want to face him, not yet.

Cid sighed and let his hands fall to his sides, digging into one of the many pockets on his pants as he pulled out the cup and ball toy he had taken to carrying around with him, resigning himself to a long wait as he began to play.

~~~

"I do NOT appreciate such behavior in my class." Tellah was sitting at the other side of his desk, his hands clasped seriously in front of him. He had been ranting along these lines for some time, and frankly Cid was beginning to get bored. He struggled to keep the constant sarcastic and cynical responses that kept entering his head against his control at the old man's rambling under control. If he wanted a better grade on his paper, he had at least act a little respectful. "I don't like having my authority undermined, do you hear me?"

Cid wanted to respond with "You shouldn't let me undermine it in th' first place, #@%@er." but he decided against it. He instead just nodded, trying to look passive and nonconfrontational.

"Now, I AM willing to accept a rewrite of this paper, if you decide to actually complete the assignment instead of writing stories."

Cid narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything.

"I'll accept it tomorrow, no later. Be sure to bring it then, and be sure to follow the assignment criteria correctly."

Cid nodded, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling in response.

"And from now on, I expect much better behavior from you, you understand me?"

Cid nodded, trying to stop the bored look from appearing on his face. This guy never shut up. He must love to hear himself talk...no wonder that's why he was an english professor.

"Now, I'm considering whether or not I should even give this book back to you..." Tellah held up Cid's priceless book, which caught his attention immediately. "But I've decided that I should, provided that it never show up in my class again, or I'll confiscate it permanently."

Cid was fairly sure that Tellah couldn't inforce such a threat, but nodded anyway in mock understanding, reaching out for the book. Tellah relinquished it reluctantly, still looking displeased. He apparently hadn't expected Cid's lack of resistance after the display earlier.

Cid stood, the book being the only other thing he had wanted out of the conversation, and Tellah sighed slightly, knowing that was probably the best goodbye he'd get out of him.

"I don't want to have this conversation again."

Cid leaned back into the room for a moment, delivering one final, parting comment. "Yeah, neither do I."

~~~

When Cid entered Hojo's class later on, he headed directly for the back, noting on his way there the jester twins sitting off to one side also near the back. He didn't know Zorn and Thorn were in this class as well. He waved to them for a moment, and they stared at him in confusion, which didn't surprise him. He barely knew them, after all.

Vincent had his head on his desk, his hand and claw buried in his black hair. Cid sighed as he sat down next to him, flopping noisily.

"I hate my art class." Vincent's soft voice came from underneath his hair, and Cid sighed in response.

"Hate m'@$^@in' writin' class too. Well, that's life."

He was worried for a moment that his statement wouldn't make Vincent feel better, and decided he should probably rephrase it, but in this he was mistaken. Vincent pushed himself upwards, his eyes tired as he made eye contact with Cid for a few moments.

"Funny how our favorite things have become things we hate..."

"Nah..." Cid smirked slightly. "Jus' th' classes that 'teach' them." Cid made the quotation marks with his fingers.

Vincent pushed himself fully upright, sinking back into his chair with a deep sigh. He stared at his claw for a moment, then held it near Cid's face, his voice completely emotionless. "Does this look like an art project to you?"

Cid hissed through his teeth and winced. "Ouch. No way, they $%$@in' thought y'did that on purpose?"

Vincent nodded and sighed again, pulling his sketchbook out from his bag with slow, languid movements. Cid rolled his eyes, resting his head on his hands as he could see Hojo stepping forward, ready to begin class.

"Pretentious @#%@s."

Vincent nodded slowly as he began drawing, disappearing into his own world. Cid took this opportunity to dig his own notebook out of his bag, flipping his pen around in his fingers for a moment before continuing the broken thought he had left off on.

Hojo began to speak in the background, which Cid and Vincent were almost completely unaware of. Once or twice when Cid looked up, he could see Zorn and Thorn struggling to pay attention, but he watched as the red one gradually fell asleep, the other almost on the verge of following his twin, but managing to maintain consciousness.

"Check it out, Vin." Cid gestured with his head towards the jesters. "One of 'em's asleep."

Vincent looked for a moment, then looked somewhat worried as he looked at Hojo, who had his eyes focused on the entire crowd of students. "I hope he doesn't..."

"And who can tell me how this story ends?" Hojo gestured broadly for a moment with one of his hands. "Thorn, would you mind enlightening us?"

Cid and Vincent both collectively held their breath, knowing that the result of this would not be good.

Zorn jerked sharply at the call of his twins name, and he shook Thorn sharply, waking the red-hued jester from his slumber. Thorn blinked blearily, confused, as Zorn began to speak, his voice soft and hesitant.

"U-um...in the end of the story, she thinks he's-"

Hojo cut him off with a few sharp words, instantly silencing the blue jester. "I was speaking to Thorn."

"But he doesn't like to talk in front-"

"Thorn, would you please answer my question?"

Zorn covered his face with his hands, the bells on his hat jingling slightly as he shook his head back and forth. Thorn began flipping through the book they were supposed to be reading, desperately trying to find where they had left off. His voice was extremely soft, unable to be heard by anyone as he began stammering uncontrollably.

"Thorn, please enunciate." Hojo had the sick smile he had before when he had been tormenting Vincent, and both of the two in the background felt their hearts sink. "Tell us the answer."

Thorn continued to stammer, unable to make his voice heard, as Zorn tried to prompt him. Thorn seemed completely unable to speak in front of audiences, sinking lower into his chair, beginning to blush.

"Can't believe he's #$^@in' doin' this t'them, #$^#in' #@%hole..." Cid mumbled under his breath, Vincent slowly nodding in response.

"Thorn, would you please come here? Perhaps we could hear you better that way..."

Both of the jesters looked absolutely terrified, but Zorn managed to compose himself first, tugging on his brothers sleeve. Thorn finally slid out of his seat, and Zorn mirrored him, both of them standing awkwardly before heading down the steps.

"I believe I asked Thorn to come down..." Hojo glared at Zorn, who, for once, did not back down. He continued to follow his brother down the steps that lead to the front, shivering. Thorn was doing worse, almost unable to walk, and Zorn was there not only for the mental support, but for physical as well. Hojo sighed and rolled his eyes, but apparently gave up on trying to separate the two.

Thorn began to play with his hands, looking steadily down, still mumbling incoherently. Zorn paused, not sure of what else to do, and he finally tried to speak. "Thorn says-"

"I want to HEAR Thorn speak. I don't want you to speak FOR him." Hojo cut Zorn off viciously, who backed away, almost visibly frightened. Thorn managed to look further down if possible, his face unable to be seen. Hojo again got the sickening smile on his face, his tone back to the cajoling tone it had before.

"C'mon Thorn, tell us what you think."

Thorn began to mumble something a bit louder, Zorn next to him, whispering something to him that apparently was giving him a bit more confidence.

"Louder, Thorn, we can't hear you."

There was a pause, and then Thorn looked up, the expression on his face that of determination, but also immense pain, as the jesters thin voice grew in volume enough to be heard.

"Ending to the story focuses on..." Thorn paused for a moment, apparently gathering his resolve again. "Thinking the boy is dead the girl does...come to his aid she does...respond he does not..."

From the rest of the class came some soft laughter and whispering, too faint to be distinguished, and Vincent felt a deep rush of sadness enter his being at such torment and ridicule. How could he do this to him? Thorn had done nothing to anger Hojo, he had no right to be doing this to him...

Cid, on the other hand, just felt furious. His fists were clenched again, knuckles white, and he could feel the urge to punch something, particularly the smug smile that rested on the Professors face as Thorn struggled to continue speaking, his face turning redder and his expression changing from the determination that it had before to one of fear, of terror. Zorn touched his shoulder, whispering to him again, and Thorn turned to him for a moment, his face torn, before he finally just collapsed against his brother, clutching his shirt with his red club-emblazoned hands, hiding his face in his chest, refusing to say anything more. Zorn continued to mumble incoherent things to him, trying to shake him out of the catatonic state his brother had almost been forced into, and Vincent could see, even from his vantage point at the back of the room, the trembling force and tenacity Thorn's fingers had in grasping his brothers shirt, trying desperatly to hide himself from the gaze of the other students that was so fixated on him.

"Thank you, Thorn." Hojo's voice was satisfied, apparently having got its share of human suffering that day, and he gestured back to where the jesters had been sitting. "You can sit down now."

Zorn managed to get his brother to move, although Thorn was unresponsive, keeping his face hidden the entire time. The entire eyes of the class rested on the twins as they finally made their way back to their seats, Zorn having to detach Thorn forcibly. Thorn put his head down on his desk, shivering, and Zorn was not much better.

"How could he do that to them...? They've never done anything wrong..." Vincent whispered under his breath. Cid's voice was laden with anger and malice. 

"Jus' five #$^#in' minutes with him, that's all I #$^#in' ask..."

Fortunately, the rest of the class passed without incident, the complete and total humiliation of Zorn and Thorn apparently enough for Hojo that day.

When class ended, Cid couldn't just let the twins walk off without saying something. He had to say something, anything, to show that he didn't approve of what had happened to them.

Thorn was still trembling when Zorn managed to pry him from the desk, and Cid stood somewhat awkwardly outside of their aisle, not sure as how to approach them at first.

They walked past him, eyes downward, apparently believing that he was waiting for someone else, or didn't want to talk to them.

"Highwind, what are you doing...?" He could hear Vincent's voice softly behind him, and Cid took some steps forward, following the jester twins.

"Hey, hey. Z an' T! Wait!"

Zorn and Thorn paused for a moment, exchanging glances before turning to look at Cid, who was currently trying to think of where such a stupid nickname had come from. He put his hand behind his head, trying to look non-threatening.

"Jus' want you t'know that I think what Hojo did t'you was pretty #$#%ed up..." He kept his voice low enough so that the professor could not hear. "He shouldn't've done that."

Vincent nodded behind him, and the two jesters again exchanged glances, confused. Zorn was the one who finally spoke, Thorn looking off to one side, biting the side of his hand in apparent nervousness.

"Thank you..."

Cid looked down, feeling even more awkward, not sure of what else to say. He decided to say the first thing that came to mind. "I mean, we're on your side or somethin'. If y'ever want t'hang out or somethin', jus' come t'us, right Vin?" He looked to his dark companion for confirmation, and he nodded, just as confused as the two jesters in front of him. They again exchanged glances, this time shock also working its way into the confusion.

"Thank you again..." Zorn looked somewhat uncomfortable. "We have to work...but...we'll remember what you said."

Zorn nudged his brother, who jerked and nodded twice sharply. Cid smiled at them in what he hoped was a disarming fashion. They waved goodbye and set off, and Cid and Vincent followed them, noting the looks that Hojo was shooting them. Cid shrugged.

"I think it went rather well, don't you?"

Vincent rolled his eyes and sighed. "Let's just hope the rest of the day goes smoother then this..." 


	15. The Drug Group ~ Introductions

~Author's Note~

I'm gonna be gone fer a few days, so no updates fer a while. But it shouldn't be long, so don't worry. Sorry this one is so short. 

  
Considering that they didn't have class for the rest of the day, it did go relatively smoother. They again retreated back to Vincent's room, where they spent a lot of the time discussing what they would do to Hojo if they had the chance. They hadn't minded so much when they themselves were being tormented, but the two jesters hadn't deserved that kind of treatment at all. It was uncalled for, and it made both of them angry, although they both expressed this in different ways.

Time passed for them all too quickly, and finally Vincent sat up from where he had been lying, again watching the TV without actually watching it. Cid was sitting on his chair at that point, also pretending to watch the TV while not actually doing so, and Vincent sighed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I think it's time for us to go..."

"#$^@." Cid mumbled to himself, closing his eyes as he stood up. He took a step forward before faltering, putting out a hand to steady himself as he put a hand to his forehead, wincing for a few moments. "#$#@in' headaches..."

Vincent slid on his shoes as he pulled on his black trenchcoat, staring at Cid with concern. "Are they getting worse?"

Cid waited for a few moments before speaking, finally moving his hand away from his forehead, blinking several times. He shrugged in response to Vincent's question. "Eh, no worse then they've been before. I think gettin' punched in th' head a few times made 'em worse..." Cid shrugged again. "But they're gettin' better in their own weird way. #^$#, I'm not makin' any sense at all, am I?"

Vincent opened the door, a soft smile on his face. "No, I know what you mean. Come on...if we're lucky, perhaps the group won't be..."

"#$^@in' loonies?" Cid smirked at him as he walked beside him down the hall. "Or fruitloops? I think I'll call 'em fruitloops from now on."

Vincent smiled again against his will. "You better not call them that at the meeting."

Cid looked mock frightened, widening his eyes and backing away, holding his hands up. "Oh no! Th' fruitloops are mad at me! Watch out, they may complete my balanced breakfast!"

Vincent actually laughed at that, softly and quietly, while Cid smirked again. "You make it too easy for me, Vin, really."

"Shut up." Vincent smiled softly at him again as they descended the stairs. They noted some whispers and stares as they walked, but had begun to learn to ignore them.

While walking to where the papers had said to go, they ran across something they did not expect. They had been walking underneath a tree when something large and heavy fell on Cid, knocking him to the ground.

"MOTHER #$#$!"

"Highwind!"

Vincent's concern swiftly turned to amused annoyance as the emerald eyes of Reeve stared downwards at Cid's form, almost glowing with their own light in the darkening evening. "Hey spazboy! Tsk tsk, you wouldn't last a minute in the jungle!"

"And neither would you, you cat$%^#er!" Cid rolled over and shoved Reeve off of him, who was laughing good-naturedly. He stood off to one side, putting his hands behind his back and staring at the two inquisitively, eyes blinking. Cid brushed himself off angrily, muttering to himself, but Vincent could tell that he wasn't really annoyed.

"Where are you two off to?"

Vincent sighed before speaking. "We have to go to some support group for people on drugs."

Reeve winced, one of his ears following the movement. "Ouch. Let me guess..." He pointed at Vincent. "Heroin..." He then turned to Cid with a broad smile. "And a big heaping pile of crack!"

Cid looked mock surprised as he took a step back, putting a hand to his chest. "Oh! You've found out my secret! I knew I should've put it somewhere other then m' #^$#in' closet."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "We do need to continue on our way..."

"Alright then." Reeve smiled again, tail flicking back and forth as he began to walk in the opposite direction. "Drug group sounds boring, so go without me. Drop by after, okay? Moog's got somethin' planned up, but he won't tell me what."

Cid waved to him as he left. "Don't wait up, catface!"

"Do I look like someone who'd do heroin?" Vincent turned to Cid, who gave him an odd smile in return.

"Do I look like someone who'd do crack? Don't worry so much, Vin. It'll make your eyes fall out."

Vincent smiled again as they continued on their way. "I believe you mean 'give you wrinkles'."

Cid shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, wrinkly eyes. That way they just pop right out of your sockets, cause they're all wrinkly an' stuff. An' then they'd begin advertising on TV 'New! Eyeball wrinkle remover! New and improved! Make your eyes look years younger'!"

Vincent again began laughing and Cid smirked again, looking towards the sky. "There y'go again, too easy."

~~~

"I think this is it..." Vincent held out the paper that he had thoughtfully brought with him, the matter escaping Cid's memory entirely. "But no one's here..."

"That's 'cause they're all inside already." A voice came to them, and the two of them turned to find out the source. They just stared for several moments at the man who towered above them both, with a large mane of wild, flame-red hair, so much so that it almost entirely obscured his eyes from view. Also on his thin, angular face was a goatee that matched his hair perfectly in color, although it wasn't nearly as wild. He was wearing primarily dark green, from his jeans to the shirt that covered his broad shoulders from view. Cid almost caught a glimpse of a tattoo on one of them before it again was lost underneath the voluminous sleeves of the giant-like man. He gestured towards the door with large hands, the pendant that hung on his chest, what looked like a salamander, making a slight chinking noise.

"They assigned me here t'make sure no one tries to get out early." He pointed towards the two of them with a grave expression on his face. "Name's Amarant, and don't you forget it."

The two of them nodded, not sure of how to respond at first, although Cid's natural confidence soon came back into play.

"So they're inside, huh?" He turned his attention towards the door. "Makes sense. Why would they be loiterin' around the halls anyway? C'mon Vin."

Before the two could reach the doorway, a sharp clicking sound caught their attention. They glanced past Amarant, who turned to face the sound as well, recognizing the sounds of nails against tile. 

Freya was coming towards them and curiously, Amarant settled back, his entire body taking on an air of ease, far from the general aura of fear and intimidation he had before. Cid and Vincent watched, forgotten, as the rat-woman walked up to Amarant, addressing him with casual familiarity.

"Hey Amarant, got a favor to ask of you."

"Depends what it is."

Freya looked behind her, and Cid and Vincent suddenly realized that there was someone else with her. She struggled for a moment to turn, then finally just sighed. "I need you to watch Vivi for me, I have a meeting I have to go to in a while and I can't bring him."

Amarant stared at her for several moments, and finally Vivi decided to appear from behind Freya's back, where he had apparently been hiding.

Cid and Vincent had seen Black Mages before, as they were fairly common, but they always were a curious sight. He shared the typical features of a black mage, the entirely black skin, almost entirely covered with clothes, and the eerily glowing eyes, at the moment a pale yellow. Vivi's face was hidden, as almost all Black Mage's faces were, by a large, floppy hat, and he wore a huge blue coat, which was far too large for him. It covered his hands and almost his entire body, hidden also with other such oversized and covering clothes. Although it was commonly understood that Black Mage's hated the light and had to protect their black skin from it, it was never understood why.

What was also odd was that Vivi looked to be only a little older then eight, and his presence at the college confused Cid and Vincent quite a bit. Cid, again feeling more confident then his dark companion, waved to the Black Mage, who stared at him with what he guessed was confusion. Since their entire faces were black, their mouths were black, even their teeth were black, it was almost impossible to tell how a Black Mage was feeling, excepting their eyes, which seemed to almost change color varying on moods. Vivi timidly waved back to him, obviously frightened. Freya tugged him away from her red coat, pushing him towards Amarant.

"You owe me." Amarant finally spoke, kneeling and looking at Vivi for a few moments in silence. The Black Mage meet his gaze, and finally moved over to where Amarant was standing, still looking awkward and unsure. "When'll you be back?"

"Won't be more then an hour. Don't worry about it." Freya again set off down the hall, nails clicking against the tail, tail waving slowly back and forth. "Believe me, he won't cause you any problems."

There was a pause after she left, and both Cid and Vincent jumped when Amarant suddenly spoke, his voice deep and direct.

"Go in already, they don't like late-comers."

"S...sorry..." Vincent mumbled an apology as Cid took hold of the door, opening it and closing it quickly, feeling extremely stupid and embarrassed for having watched the entire display without saying anything.

He stood for a second before turning to see the congregation that was set up in the center of the room, a rough circle of folding chairs, almost all of them occupied by various people. He felt Vincent start slightly, and he followed his gaze to a girl wearing a blue and black ensemble. She must have been that girl he mentioned before who thought his arm was an art project.

Sitting next to Rinoa, as he decided she had to be, was a girl who was dressed primarily in various shades of pink, brown hair tied back behind her in a long, intricate braid. She had soft green eyes, and was holding a clipboard on her lap. She didn't seem to notice them at first, and the two of them just stood near the door, taking in what was in front of them.

Cloud was sitting at the group as well, staring at the ground without saying a word. He did not look happy.

Cid noticed with a vengeful smirk that next to him Reno sat among the group members, muttering to himself angrily, while his bald friend sat next to him. Cid had noticed that Reno and him were very rarely separated, and he had heard from Reno that his name was Rude. He did not look pleased with the entire matter, and looked somewhat detached.

Next to him was a young man Cid had seen occasionally, but had never spoken to. He had brown hair that took on a peculiarly grey sheen in certain light, and he wore black jeans and a white shirt, covered with a black jacket with a furred collar. A necklace with a thick, large symbol on the end rested on his chest, and across his serious, no-nonsense face ran a long scar from left to right, starting at his eyebrow and ending under his other eye. He looked extremely displeased and kept glaring at the other male who sat next to him.

Cid recognized him as Zell, the youth who had lept out of the window. If that had given him any preconception of who he had to be, it was correct. Zell was fidgeting and jerking in his chair, barely able to sit still. His hair was wild, flaring particularly near the front, and his face was marred by a large, elaborate black tattoo that covered one side of it almost completely. He was wearing a black jacket, the sleeves embroidered with flames, over a black shirt, and long jean shorts. His hands were covered in what almost seemed to be protective gloves, and currently he was rocking back and forth on his chair, saying one thing over and over.

"Yes you are!"

Cid noted when he listened closer that the brownish-grey haired youth next to him was mumbling under his breath. "Not on drugs."

"Yes you are!"

"Not on drugs."

"Yes you are!"

Apparently this exchange had been going on for some time, and Zell didn't seem to be tiring of it anytime soon, still finding amusement out of it although he had to have been doing it for some time.

Next to Zell was the man who had pursued him down the hallway. This time his cowboy hat was securely on his head, and he was lounging on his chair with the appearance that at any moment he may melt off of it completely. He was wearing a large tan trenchcoat, also with a furred collar, over a purple shirt and what appeared to be chaps, complete with a pair of cowboy boots. Cid gave him an odd look which he didn't even seem to notice, as he seemed intent on hitting on Rinoa, who sat next to him. If he wanted to say "cowboy", he was saying it loud and clear. Rinoa, on the other hand, was staring at the serious boy near Zell with frightening intensity.

Next to the serious boy sat another Black Mage, although this one was different for several reasons, the most obvious of which being the large, purplish-blue feathered wings that spread from his back. He was covered by the typical large floppy hat, although his clothing, completely concealing as Vivi's was, tended more to the elaborate side, with a thick blue coat, embroidered with several patterns, and long dark blue pants completing his ensemble. His glowing eyes were narrowed in what appeared to be anger, and he twitched several times, for no reason that Cid could see. Cid made a note to stay away from him if at all possible. He looked extremely dangerous.

There was an empty seat beside the winged Black Mage, and after that sat another male, this one somewhat overweight, reading a pornographic magazine and snickering in bizarre ways. He didn't look attractive or pleasant in the least, which probably explained why there were empty seats around him.

Finally, sitting a two seats away from the brown-haired, pinkish girl, was somebody who was giggling to himself. Constantly. His blondish hair was tied up in something of a psuedo ponytail, and he wore a long green coat with a large striped collar, which obscured what he was wearing beneath it completely. He had his hands near his face, which was marked with bright red paint. Underneath his eyes were triangles of red, and above them a pointed crescent with a dot between the points. Something about him almost seemed to radiate "clown" to Cid, although the fact that he was playing with a lighter didn't help. 

He was flicking the lighter on and off, apparently mystified and incredibly amused each time by the flame's appearance, laughing in a way that chilled Cid in a way that it shouldn't have. The laugh was strange in it's own way, but it just terrified Cid for some reason he didn't really understand. Something about the laugh seemed wrong, seemed to speak of something far more serious then a drug problem...

"Uwee hee hee!"

Finally the girl in pink seemed to notice them. She smiled at them pleasantly, gesturing with her pen towards some empty seats near the clown-like youth. "Oh, hello. You must be Cid and Vincent, right? You can sit there. We're about to begin, so you're just in time."

The two of them awkwardly made their way into the circle, sitting down, but keeping a chair's distance away from the youth with the lighter if at all possible.

The pink girl put her pen to her lips. "Let's begin with introductions, shall we? I'll start. My name is Aeris Gainsborough, but you can call me Aeris."

She nudged the girl in blue next to her, who jumped and finally stopped staring holes into the scarred males chest. "Rinoa Heartilly."

She noted Vincent and waved to him, but the dark-haired youth refused to awknowledge her in any way. She was about to speak to try and get his attention when the slumped cowboy near her cut her off.

"I'm Irvine Kinneas." His voice was smooth, seductive, and controlled, far different from the panicked shouting that had proceeded Zell's leap out the window. "I'd just like to say I'd love to know you all...personally." He winked and smiled, and Cid again gave him an odd look, this time deciding to speak out.

"What th' #$^#'s that supposed to mean?"

Before Irvine could reply, Zell apparently sensed that his turn was up and he stopped rocking his chair back and forth with a loud thump, sitting straight up and pounding a fist into his chest.

"I'm Zell Dincht! Hi!"

He waved energetically to everyone in the group, who continued to stare at him in confusion. He then fairly pushed the scarred youth off his chair. "Your turn!"

The serious male brushed himself off in annoyance before speaking in a monotone, dry voice. "Squall."

"Hi Squall!" Rinoa called from across the group, but he ignored her.

"I'm Rude." The bald man next to Reno spoke with a serious, no-nonsense type of tone, one that matched Squall's almost perfectly.

"Reno." The red-haired male glared at Cid for a moment before speaking again. "#$#@ you."

"#$^@ you too." Cid responded, and the two continued glaring for a few moments until another member of the group spoke, this one the one reading the pornographic magazine. He smiled and blew a kiss at Aeris and Rinoa, who looked disgusted at his advances.

"Corneo, but you can all call me DON Corneo." He smirked before going back to his magazine.

The winged black mage ruffled his feathers in annoyance, apparently disliking being at the group. Cid could identify. His voice was frightening, scratchy and deep.

"Three. That's all."

Cloud kept his eyes down as he spoke quickly and without emotion. "Cloud Strife."

The eyes turned to Vincent, who looked down, hating public attention. Cid knew that well, and he hated the fact that they had to introduce themselves in such an embarrassing way. "Vincent..."

Cid crossed his arms and leaned back. "I'm Cid, and I don't #$#%in' belong here."

Vincent looked at him with boredom in his eyes, while Cid glared daggers at the snickering Reno across the group. "That's not going to help."

"Well I don't. God #$^# it."

Aeris stared at him for a moment, as if debating to say something, but finally decided against it.

There was a pause before she gestured awkwardly towards the youth with the lighter with her pen. "Um, would you please tell us your name? For the group of course."

His head had been inclined so that he could stare directly at the lighter's flame, but the odd thing was that he didn't move his head back up to look up at her, simply sliding his pupils upward in an eerie way that Cid almost couldn't watch. His voice was musical and sounded extremely unstable. When he spoke it was almost like he was singing.

"You can call me Kefka if you please."

"Thank you." Aeris nodded towards him, then turned back to the group, scribbling something on the sheet on her lap before smiling at them again in the strangely pleasant way she had before. "Now, shall we all begin?" 


	16. The Drug Group ~ Completion

~Author's Note~

Another short one. ^_^o Sorry I haven't updated lately, I've been writin a buncha stuff lately in different fandoms and stuff. ^_^o I swear I'll write more soon. Remember ta read Juudai Arano by Soshika, which is da companion fic ta this. ^_^ Here - http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=492072 . Thanks again fer readin.   


A silence greeted her statement, only broken by the slight sounds of clothing rustling and some scraping of chairs. She stared up at the group, looking at them with moderate disapproval at their lack of participation.

A clicking noise broke the silence, the sound of Kefka resuming his play with the lighter.

Cid thought that her disapproval was completely unwarranted and decided to make it known. "What th' #$^# do you want us t'do?"

Aeris stared at him, shaking her head in what looked to be pity for a few moments, although for what was not clear, before speaking herself. Cid rolled his eyes in response to the expression. She didn't seem to notice this at all. 

"Well, now that we've introduced ourselves, I'd like you all to go around again and saw why you're here." She glanced at Cid again for a moment. "As in, what drugs you're on or were on."

Vincent rubbed his upper arm uncomfortably, his voice soft. "Isn't that a bit personal...?"

"Come on now!" Rinoa held her arms out for a moment, interrupting whatever Aeris was about to say. She had remained fairly silent in these kind of matters so far, so her intrusion was somewhat startling. "Everyone knows why everyone is here, don't we? It's not a drug support group because no one's on drugs!" She put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. "Now, let's stop hiding it and acting mature."

Vincent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, but remained silent in defeat, not wanting to bring any more attention to himself then had already been gained. There were numerous glares in Rinoa's direction, which she ignored, although whether or not it was purposely was hard to tell.

"Hmm, why don't _you_ start-" Aeris began to say something, but Rinoa cut her off sharply. Strangely enough, Aeris didn't seem to mind as much as one would think.

"Squall! Why are you here?" Rinoa smiled at him sweetly, which the stoic youth seemed to ignore completely. He continued to keep his arms crossed, his eyes fixed steadily on the ground, his voice monotone.

"I'm not on drugs."

It came to no one's surprise when Zell lept out of his chair, pointing at Squall dramatically. "Yes you are!"

It did surprise others when something finally came after the often-repeated statement, the last word extended far longer then necessary. "You're on PAINKILLERS!"

He held his fist in the air, as if in victory, while Squall narrowed his eyes at him, still no expression crossing his face. Zell held the pose for several moments before Aeris finally coughed, breaking the awkward silence that had followed the abrupt statement.

"Zell, if you could sit down..."

Zell was back in his seat in a blur of motion. In complete contrast to Zell's hyperactivity, Irvine had his hat over his eyes and was apparently napping. Or at least, that was what it looked like. It was hard to tell.

"Alright, Zell..."

Reno cut her off abruptly. "What drugs are YOU two on?"

Aeris looked aghast as she put a hand on her chest delicately. "Me? Drugs? No, of course not, I'm the group's supervisor. Rinoa here is my assistant."

Rinoa waved, and Reno rolled his eyes in annoyance, muttering under his breath. Zell, at the sound of his name, had jerked his head in the two girls direction, who continued to stare at him.

"Zell, what have you been on?"

Zell blinked for several moments, then smiled brightly, his voice energetic and proud. "I'm high on life!"

Before anyone could even react to such a statement, Zell held up one finger in a motion to wait. "Hold on for a second, I've got to take a hit!"

He then proceeded to rub his hands all over his face, while snorting loudly, in the most spasmodic and random fashion. He finished by throwing his hands off to the side, sniffing and twitching exaggeratedly. "Aaaah, that's the stuff."

The entire group, save Squall, Cloud, and Three, burst into laughter, much to the annoyance of Aeris and Rinoa, who sat and waited for it to die down before speaking again. 

"Zell, this is serious business! We're trying to be supportive and you're joking around! You're toying with people's lives here!" Aeris gestured broadly. In the middle of her short speech Kefka resumed laughing, far after the others had stopped, his high-pitched giggle making those in the group shudder. She glared at him for a moment, which didn't cause the disturbing sound to stop. "Kefka, I'm serious! Stop laughing! This is a matter of life and death!"

Cid, after Zell's display, had loosened up considerably, and no longer viewed the two girls as a threat or anything that he should respect in any way. He put a hand to his chest melodramatically. "Oh! A matter of life and death! Jesus #$^#, I'm dyin' here! #$@#, I forgot t'take my hit of life!"

He flailed in his chair for several moments, gagging and choking exaggeratedly, again to the amusement of the rest of the group, while Aeris stared at him, looking extremely offended. Cid smirked after his display was over and leaned back in his chair, noting Vincent's tight posture near him loosening somewhat. He was glad that he was unwinding a bit, he could sense how tense he was.

"Don't you take the Lord's name in vain!" Her voice had changed tone severely. "Not only is he important for your afterlife, he will be key in helping you get over your addictions!"

Much to her outrage, there was a great deal of snickering from the rest of the group, who apparently didn't feel the same way she did about religion. She scribbled something on the notepad in front of her for several moments, slowly calming down, until she put it down quietly, clearing her throat. Her voice was tighter and more frustrated then it had been before. "Never mind. Let's just continue. Irvine, what are you taking?"

Irvine smiled at her in a lazy, but suggestive way. "Just looking at someone sexy gets me higher then any drug."

He pointed his fingers at her, smiling winningly, before he replaced his arms behind his head, smiling at the ceiling. Aeris let her mouth hang open for a few seconds before closing her eyes, apparently counting to ten. After she had gotten herself under control, she marked something down on the pad of paper in front of her, movements quick and sharp.

"Alright, alright, whatever. Rude, would you please share with us?"

Rude sat in complete silence for several minutes, which was only broken by Kefka muffling giggles behind his hands. They waited patiently, but apparently Rude didn't seem ready to say anything.

"Rude, would you-"

Reno crossed his arms and sunk down into his chair, the look on his face rebellious and angry. "#$^#, he's just with me 'cause he wanted t'come along, he ain't on no #$^#."

Aeris blinked for a few moments, then finally seemed to accept this as an answer, writing in her notepad once again. "Well, what about you, Reno?"

Cid smirked to himself as he watched Reno fidget for a few moments. He wondered how he was going to respond.

Reno muttered under his breath for a few moments before finally speaking. "#$^@, I'm on #$^#in' everything, happy now?"

Cid smiled at him evilly from across the room, causing Reno to glare at him even more venemously, dragging a line across his throat with one of his fingers. Cid responded by pretending to choke for a few moments before a glance from Aeris stopped him. Kefka continued to giggle softly to himself in the background, although it wasn't exactly known why, as he wasn't staring at Cid or Reno or at anything that was physically present in the room at the moment.

"Thank you, Reno." Aeris wrote down some more on her notepad and continued around the ring of people. "Corneo...?"

"DON Corneo." He automatically corrected without looking up from the pornographic magazine.

"Corneo." Aeris emphasized her tone. "What are you on?"

Corneo looked at from over his magazine, wiggling his eyebrows at her for a few moments before smirking. "Baby, you'd _love_ it, believe _me_."

Aeris raised an eyebrow while Rinoa sighed, holding her head. "I think we can guess."

The brown-haired girl wrote down some more on the notepad before turning to the winged black mage, who had crossed his arms and was staring fixedly at the floor. When he spoke, it slightly startled all those in the room, mainly because there was no warning, considering that his mouth was all but invisible, but also because neither Aeris or Rinoa had asked him the question yet.

"I'm on numerous medicational drugs, but I don't feel comfortable disclosing it with...others." The wings on his back fluttered in agitation for a few moments. The tone in his voice brokered no argument, and Aeris didn't pursue the issue. She wrote something down and then continued. Cid was beginning to wonder just what it was she was writing, but decided it probably wasn't important anyway.

"Cloud?"

The blond boy was silent for a few moments before his voice came, level and in control. "Several. I had several."

This made Vincent think for a moment. Such a statement still said nothing of whether or not Cloud was taking the drugs or selling them. Figures there'd be such a duplicious answer from the mysterious youth.

Aeris made a mark on her pad for a moment. "Alright, we can work with that for now. What about you, Cid?"

"I'm not #$^#in' on anythin'." Cid angrily slid back into his seat, crossing his arms. "I'm here 'cause Reno got #$^#in' busted, and now they think I'm a #$^#in' stoner too." This earned him a glare of hatred from the red-haired young man, which he returned readily.

Aeris looked at Vincent for a moment. "So...?"

Vincent rubbed his arm awkwardly, again feeling the gaze of eyes upon him and hating it. "...The drugs that were found weren't mine...I'm not on anything..."

"Then why are you here?" Rinoa asked suspiciously, crossing her arms. She apparently hadn't forgotten the earlier episode in Art and was apparently holding it against him. "You HAVE to be on something..."

Vincent put a hand to his head, conspiciously avoiding the arm that had caused him so much trouble before. "...It's the same thing that happened with Highwind...they think I'm on drugs as well...due to the substances found in Strife's room..."

Rinoa stared at the two of them distrustingly before leaning over to Aeris, having a whispered conversation for a few seconds. It was suddenly interrupted by Kefka's strange, lilting voice, which immediately demanded attention.

"I think I'm next."

The two girls stared at him cautiously for a few moments. There was something about Kefka that was frightening, despite his clownish appearance. Although normally it would have been somewhat disarming, on Kefka it only seemed to heighten the feeling that he could and would do anything at a moments notice. He seemed to exude danger, a sense of terror. He was frightening, just because it seemed that he simply didn't care about anything, most of all someone else's feelings, or their life. That and he didn't seem to be "all there", in a literal sense. And even more frightening, the idea that he was faking not "being there" was a definite possibility. How much of it was an act and how much of it wasn't? He waited for a moment before curling painted lips into a strange smile.

"There are too many to name. Some are legal, some are not, some are known, some are not." His tone rose and fell with each of his statements, again becoming almost like a song. "Stimulants and depressants, uppers and downers, whatever you would like to call them. There are so many." He smiled again in a more twisted manner, gesturing with one hand in a graceful, slow motion. He was speaking with such a calm, musical tone, it was as if he was talking about anything other then drugs. "Just so many. I do believe I couldn't even list them all."

Aeris was about to say something before Kefka cut her off once again. "Every form of them as well. Needles, smoke, pills, tablets...any other suggestions? Anyone?" He turned, completely aware and apparently knowing the kind of reaction he would get, which was, without exception, a blank, almost frightened, stare. Everyone was staring at Kefka, somewhat warily, without saying a word. He seemed to already know this, smiling again in his strange way as he gestured towards the rest of the group. "Never mind, I'm sure you two get the point."

Kefka settled back into his seat, pulling the lighter from his pocket with a quick, almost invisible motion, flicking it again and staring at the small flame with an almost maniacal look in his eyes. Everyone subconsciously leaned away from him.

Aeris cleared her throat again, writing quickly on the notepad in front of her, looking quite nervous. "Well, alright. That's good, thank you..."

Zell, without any warning whatsoever, lept from his chair with such speed as to knock it skittering back, gesturing broadly towards the window. "THE DINCHT SIGNAL! I MUST GO!"

With that apparently being reason enough, Zell ran out of the room at top speed, the door slamming behind him loudly. Unlike before, this time Irvine did not pursue the blond youth, simply remaining in his chair.

Before any kind of reaction could be formulated to Zell's extremely random outburst, Amarant walked back into the room, annoyance plainly visible on his features. He was holding the much shorter Zell at arms length above the ground by his jacket. He slightly threw Zell back inside the room, where he fell to the ground with an exaggerated scream of terror, proceeding to pretend he was drowning in some kind of liquid.

Amarant crossed his arms before speaking, his voice dangerous and annoyed. "Don't try that again."

He walked back outside the room with long, angry steps, and Zell finished his imitation of a drowning man, with no explanation, and scurried back to his seat, which Irvine had put back up, with the same speed he had originally gotten out of it. He held a fist into the air for a moment, his voice exaggeratedly loud and dramatic.

"DINCHTMAN SHALL TRIUMPH!"

Everyone continued to stare at him in utter confusion before he began rocking back and forth at an extremely high rate of speed while he apparently hummed his own theme music, occasionally striking more glamorous poses.

"Zell, that was very uncalled for!" Aeris's tone had the disapproval of an frusturated parent, something that was bothering Cid the more she talked. This didn't seem to bother the hyperactive youth in the least.

"Dinchtman is ALWAYS on call!" Zell lept onto the seat of his chair, striking another dramatic pose before settling back down. Irvine apparently seemed to come out of his calm and collected exterior, thumbing his hat away from his face as he smiled knowingly at the two confused girls.

"It's true, he is."

"That's not the point!" Aeris pointed at him with her pen, still very disapproving. "There will be no..." She paused for a moment, trying to find the appropriate word. She ended up gesturing with her hands in a strange fashion while she tried to say the word she had just created with some sense of dignity. "No 'dinchtman'ing in this group."

"Dinchtman CANNOT be contained!" Zell jumped out of his seat once again, this time his chair remaining upright. He didn't, however, make for the door, apparently learning his lesson with Amarant, and simply stood, posing, his voice still overly dramatic. "He always triumphs!"

Irvine smiled again in the same fashion as before, his voice still not changing tone. "It's true, he does."

The two girls stared at them with stern disapproval, which didn't seem to discourage the pair in the least, while Zell continued to pose and Irvine let his hat slide back over his face.

"Mother %$^#, when does this group end..." Cid leaned back in his seat, sighing slightly. This was all very amusing, but he was beginning to get bored, despite Zell's antics, and the other people in the ground were beginning to make him somewhat uncomfortable. Particularly Three and Kefka.

Vincent was leaning on his knees, slouched over, apparently daydreaming or something of the sort. He didn't look at him as he responded, keeping his eyes focused somewhere that Cid was not aware of. "We've still got a long way to go..."

~~~

Sadly, the rest of the group went by without much incident. Zell seemed to calm down, or at least keep his outbursts in his head without much comment, and Kefka remained mostly silent, excepting a few instances where he began laughing at what seemed to be the most inappropriate time. Considering it was Kefka that they were talking about, it was very likely he was doing that on purpose. It was very disruptive and very unnerving.

But, as the group wore on, everyone simply seemed to calm down in a desire to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. Even sabotaging the group was no longer as tempting as just leaving. So they settled into bored poses, most of them allowing their minds to wander to more interesting things while the two girls rambled about drugs and the affects they had on the body and why no one should ever use them and so on and so forth, things they had learned years ago in grade school, junior high, high school. It was exceedingly boring, not to mention to some extent patronizing, and everyone was grateful when the meeting finally ended.

Cid and Vincent were walking out when something caught their attention out in the hall, causing them to pause. 

It was Three and the small black mage boy Vivi. The two of them were just staring at eachother, identical golden eyes shining in the darkness of black faces. Vivi was shivering visibly with fright, but Three remained as still as statue, almost frozen in place. Cid and Vincent paused, not sure of what to make of the ordeal, but feeling somewhat involved as they had been there when Vivi had come to the hallway in the first place. Even that short moment, even without really speaking to Vivi very much, they already felt somewhat responsible, and felt too involved to simply walk away now.

They were, however, not sure as to how they could intercede on the smaller Black Mage's behalf. Again, they didn't know Vivi enough to simply state they were his friends, or concerned, and they especially didn't know Three enough to know that whether standing up for the smaller mage would be a good idea. The same feeling that had refused to let them leave in the hallway had also, unintentionally, left them unable to act, and it just left them standing awkwardly in the hallway, watching silently, not sure of that they could or should do.

At the moment Three continued to stare at Vivi, eyes turning a dark orange. He flared out his wings, shining deep blue beginning to obscure the light, standing at his full height, well over twice Vivi's, while the boy shrunk back against the wall, still shivering, trying to hide deeper into his already large clothes. He was obviously terrified, his eyes turning more pale with every moment, although it wasn't clear why they were doing this to the two youths standing some distance away. Did Vivi know Three, or did Three know him? Or did Three just not like other mages? Did they have an argument? Was Three just picking a fight out of spite for the group, or was there something deeper going on?

Cid, sick of standing and doing nothing while Vivi continued to cower against the wall, was about to move to help the smaller mage when someone did it for him. 

Amarant came back from the room where the group had been, where he had been making sure it was empty, to see the following display between the two black mages, however distantly related, and he did not look pleased with it.

He moved towards Vivi, taking a stand directly in front of him, causing Three to back away, wings folding back, letting the light back. Both Cid and Vincent were relieved that someone had finally come to speak up for Vivi, now feeling somewhat guilty for having done nothing, and again just have been watching on the outside.

The young man and the winged black mage stared at one another for a few moments before Amarant spoke, his voice dangerous and low.

"Go and leave the kid alone."

Three narrowed his eyes angrily, their color slowly moving back to the familiar glowing yellow, as Vivi quickly moved behind Amarant, hiding behind the man's formidable presence. Apparently Vivi had lost some of the fear he had had before around Amarant, or at least trusted him enough to let him protect him. Three did not look happy about this in the least, and his wings twitched, blue feathers ruffling in the wind. 

"He's not your concern." Three's raspy voice came from the blackness that was his face, but Amarant did not change his expression or stance. He continued to stand, arms crossed, his face quiet and controlled.

"He's my concern now, so get away from him."

Three stood for a few moments, apparently trying to decide whether or not to attack the large man, before moving off, the loose clothing he was wearing giving the impression of gliding across the floor rather then walking. "You can't protect him forever..."

"No I can't." Amarant shook his head, his expression still unchanging. "And I'm not supposed to either. You can deal with him later for whatever #$^@ reason you have, but not while I'm watchin' him."

Three kept his back to Amarant, wings folding and unfolding on his back several times before the winged mage managed to get them under control. His voice was impossible to read. "I can live with that."

He brushed by Cid and Vincent, who moved out of his way quickly, not wanting to be in the way of such an obviously upset and dangerous person. They watched the winged black mage leave the building, the door slamming loudly behind him, a single cobalt blue feather a lasting reminder of his passing.

The two of them exchanged glances, not exactly sure what had just happened. They turned to Amarant, who had, while they were distracted, sat down in the hallway, his eyes closed. His face was passive and calm, and his posture controlled and straight. It wasn't clear exactly what he was doing, but he appeared to be meditating. Vivi, who had been standing behind him before for protection, now sat on the floor beside the scarlet-haired man, his face becoming a perfect mask of black as he closed his glowing eyes. The two of them sat there quietly, not saying a word, and Cid and Vincent, although they had planned to say something about what had happened originally, now felt far too awkward to say anything. It had never really been their business in the first place, and they were feeling out of place as it was. They quietly followed Three's trail out of the building, still feeling a general sense of unease.

"Think he'll really let Three get him?" Cid's voice was softer then usual when he finally spoke, even though they had long left the hallway behind. Vincent shivered as he remembered the coldness in Three's eyes, but moreso at the cold behind Amarant's. He held his shoulders for a moment before speaking.

"I don't know..." Vincent finally shook his head in defeat, trying to forget what he had seen. The more he thought about it, the more it truly wasn't any of his business, and the worse he felt about having looked in on something that he had no right to see in the first place. "Besides, it's not really our business anyway..."

Cid stared at him for a moment before turning his eyes to the sky, sighing slightly to himself. "Yeah...I guess you're right..." 


	17. Sephiroth

~Author's Note~

I was actually gonna bring Seph in later, but I'll bring him in now just fer da heck of it. ^_^ Hee hee, Seph's like "kastalk". Anyway...   
  
  
The two of them split off before they reached the dorms, both of them having work that was due and needing some time off to think by themselves. There were still some residual bad feelings from the argument, but they would go away with time, or at least, that was what the two were hoping.

Vincent was walking by himself back to the dorm. The night was cool, but not unpleasant, and there was a slight breeze, nothing strong enough to be a nuisance. His hair fluttered occasionally in a strong updraft, but other then that, it didn't really bother him. The group had let out rather late, so there weren't many other people around, but there were lights and such, and there was the moon.

As he walked along the sidewalk that led to his dorm, he couldn't shake a general feeling of unease that came over him. He thought back to that one horrific night, finding Cid bleeding and hurt outside of his room, and remembered it had happened while he was walking, alone...

On a night a lot like this one...

Vincent felt a tinge of adrenaline pump into his bloodstream at the thought, quickening his heartrate and breathing, as he tried to keep calm. He didn't want to look nervous or frightened, in case he was being watched, which he certainly couldn't be...Hojo had said he would speak to the Weapons, to make sure they wouldn't attack them again...

He could feel his metal claw twitching in his sleeve, and he swallowed, somewhat nervously. He glanced back and forth quickly as he began walking faster, beginning to see things moving that weren't really there. Or that he hoped weren't there...

The mind can easily play tricks on one while they're frightened, and Vincent struggled to keep himself from simply bolting at things he began to think he saw. He angrily scolded himself for being so easily spooked and forced himself to slow down, standing to his full height and trying to look confident and sure. He felt himself wishing he had brought his walkman to block out his thoughts, but that would just have made him more vulnerable...

But at least he wouldn't have this fear dogging him...

He glanced up at the sky, trying to get his mind off of anything other then being dragged into an alleyway and being beaten into unconsciousness. His body kept feeding him adrenaline as his mind easily created more terrible pictures for him, clear images of what was going to happen to him the moment he let down his guard, at the next dark spot he encountered on his walk...

He could almost see them, terrible figures wreathed in shadow, coming towards him, grabbing him, covering his mouth so he wouldn't scream...

The next day there would be so much speculation...who had killed the young man who was walking back to his dorm? He apparently had been beaten to death...

He could see the news reports now, he could see the face of Hojo, trying not to smile at the thought, explaining that Vincent had been on drugs anyway, which was why he was out so late, and that it could be expected for someone of such an unsavory lifestyle. He could see them interviewing Reeve, who would be gesturing and such with tears glinting in his emerald eyes, talking about how Vincent had never done anything wrong, and how they just beat him up "'cause they thought he was boffin' some guy an' he really wasn't, y'know?".

He felt his heart almost stop when the perfect image of Cid came into his mind, his reaction to such a tragedy. He could see the film crews at his door, knocking, and Cid opening it for a few precious seconds, his hair dissheveled, his eyes tired, lines running down his face, angry and hurt. He would slam the door at them, and refuse to speak, and although Vincent had been viewing, or creating, the entire thing from the perspective of a camera crew, he could see the other side of the door, where Cid would be huddled against the dark wood, holding his arms and swearing, cursing to himself, his eyes shut tight, tears leaking out against his will. He could hear his voice, angry and sad all at once.

"#$^# you, Vin, you can't #$^#in' do this t'me...god #^#@in' #$^@ it, I lost everyone, an' now I #$^#in' lost you...#$@# you...god#$#@ you..."

Such an image was startling, simply for its clarity and apparent reality, and Vincent almost felt that he was in the room with him, but even in his minds eye, he would be a ghost, unable to make any contact with Cid, who looked so small and hopeless on the floor.

His mind went on with its perfect interpretation of what his death would be like, they would plant a tree for him or something, a plaque commemorating what had happened, and people would forget him, and they would wonder "Who would plant a tree like that here?" 

"Oh, some kid got beaten to #$^#..." 

"Too bad for him..."

And he would watch from his grave as people passed him by, and people forgot him, but he knew from the look on Cid's face, the way he clenched his fists so hard, the way he was trembling, that he would never really be forgotten, not really...

He shook his head sharply, his hair flying around him violently as he put both his hands to his forehead, trying to shake out the all-too-realistic vision. He hated it when his mind did this...it was something that he did constantly, often against his will. He would just be walking, and then he would envision his own death, perfectly played out, everyone's reactions. He would picture it, his own reaction, everytime, and his own death varied with each location he went to, from murders to deadly falls. He had hoped that maybe, now that he had gotten out of his home city, that such visions would stop, but his imagination was far too much out of control for that. It always frightened him, these visions, but he had never told anyone about them, thinking them the work of an over-active and overly-morbid mind.

He continued walking, not realizing that while he had been thinking he actually stopped moving, and tried to keep his mind clear, not wanting to think of such frightening things.

He could even see the lights glinting off his blood...

He shook his head again, not sure of how he could get the horrible images out of his mind. He tried to think of someone else, someone who could distract him.

He smiled softly. Who else could distract him but Cid? He remembered when they had first met what felt like ages ago, with Cid running into him and then running off. Who knew that such a meeting would eventually lead into such a wonderful friendship now?

He felt much better after getting his mind off of such morbid thoughts, and he continued walking again, feeling much better.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, roughly.

He tried to turn around to see who it was, a gasp of fear escaping him, but the person who had such a hold on him quickly pulled him off the sidewalk, turning him around quickly to face him and pushing him against the nearby building by his shoulders, pinning him. Vincent had to struggle consciously not to scream in fear, instead converting the sound into several frightened gasps.

He had never attacked someone with his claw before, never having the cause, but it looked like now he was going to find out. He raised his arm, only to have it pinned back against the wall again with painful force.

"Please don't make this difficult." A silken, deep voice came from the man in front of him. "I've come to tell you something."

Vincent could feel his heart beating in his head, beating in his fingertips, the rushing noise coming to his ears. He was overcome with fright, but he tried to force his body to calm.

The man in front of him was taller then Vincent and obviously much stronger, with a wider build and much more weight behind him. His eyes seemed to be glowing in the darkness, an eerie blue-green, and occasionally Vincent could catch glimpses from the light outside of the darkened alleyway of silver shining near his face.

"Now, calm down and co-operate." He could feel the hold on him lessening, and angry at being caught so off-guard, he fairly tore his hands and body away from his grasp, backing away from him warily. He stood lightly on his toes, prepared to run or fight if the need be, refusing to just be taken without any kind of resistance.

"What do you want from me?" His voice was strained with fright, but he struggled to keep it under control, not wanting to sound intimidated. His attacker moved closer, more into the light, so that he became more visible, a smirk on his face.

"I already told you. Now calm down."

The silver glinting near his face had been his hair, which flowed around his body almost as if it were alive, each strand seeming to move independently. His bangs seemed to hover above his face in some kind of strange way that slightly reminded Vincent of Aeris. He was dressed almost entirely in black, with a black trenchcoat that matched Vincents and a black shirt and jeans. He was broad and strong, frighteningly beautiful in a terrifying, unnatural way. Vincent felt sick with fear and wanted to get away, more then anything he had ever wanted in his life. He took a step backwards, wishing that he and Cid had not separated, that they could have faced him together.

"Now listen to me. I have information to you that may prove useful, Vincent Valentine."

Vincent took another step back, and in response his assailant took another step forward. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

He put a hand on his chest, smiling again in a predatory way. "You can call me Sephiroth. I..." He paused for a moment before smiling again. "Know things, I guess you could say. I need to tell you something."

"Why should I trust you?" Vincent took another step back, his claw already, without his knowledge, curled into an attack position. "Why would you tell me anything? I don't know you."

"You are correct on that point." Sephiroth leaned his head to one side for a moment. "You don't know me. But I do know you. All about you. And your friend Cid."

"Highwind...?" Vincent loosened slightly, blinking in confusion. His feelings became mixed, and his body loosened slightly. "What do you want?"

"I've taken an interest in you two, you see..." Sephiroth gestured with one hand, the other resting in one of his pockets. "I've been watching you for some time...the two of you, spending nights together, him drinking and the two of you watching television..."

Vincent took two steps back this time, the fear that had died down just slightly surging forward again with renewed strength. He could taste it in his mouth as the blood rushed through him again, making his vision blur for a moment and the rushing sound to come back into his ears. "How do you know that...?"

Sephiroth's composure never seemed to falter. He was calm, collected, superior in every way, his voice keeping the silken, calm tone it had before, which did nothing to calm Vincent's jangled nerves. "Like I previously stated, I've been watching you. I've been watching ever since that fateful day when the two of you...'bumped' into one another." The way he emphasized the word seemed to give the impression that Sephiroth knew something about it that Vincent did not. This only confused Vincent further. What on earth was there not to know about what had happened? They had just run into one another... "You two...interest me."

"You've been watching us?" Vincent tried to muster some kind of outrage, clenching a fist angrily, although the expression on his face was still that of startled fear. "Stalking us?"

Sephiroth paused, then began to laugh, silently. He put a hand to his mouth for a moment, the other hand coming free from the pocket as if to wave Vincent away. He could finally hear it, soft laughter that almost seemed swept away by the wind. Vincent wasn't sure how to respond, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. He didn't understand why Sephiroth found such an accusation amusing. Another wind came by, fluttering Vincent's hair, although Sephiroth's apparently had more weight as it barely seemed to move. His eyes opened again, staring directly into Vincent's.

"No, no...I don't stalk people. I just...watch them." Again his face became calm and composed and he settled back into a relaxed pose, both hands back in his pockets. "That's what I do around here, you know. There isn't a thing that goes on here that I don't know about."

Vincent took a step back, but it was small and trembling, his muscles still tensed, still waiting direction. Sephiroth took a larger step closer to him, more of the light shining off his hair as he came further into the light.

"Why were you watching us?"

Sephiroth regarded him for a moment and then spoke again. "Like I've said before, you interest me."

"Why?" Vincent managed to work some malice into the word in place of his fear, and he was beginning to feel a bit better. He shouldn't be letting the taller man intimidate him like this.

Sephiroth turned, just slightly, looking upwards towards the sky for the briefest moment before pinning Vincent down with his stare once again. "My reasons are my own."

"If you were watching us..." Vincent wasn't sure if he quite believed him yet. He had said something that was probably circling around campus already anyway...he had to have more concrete proof. Besides, he didn't want to appear as if he were gullible enough to believe him without any kind of evidence. "Then why didn't you help when Highwind got attacked?"

Sephiroth paused for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding, the slightest smile gracing his lips. "Ah yes...the Weapons...well..."

Vincent stood, feeling anger mixing in with fear at his apparent lack of concern for what had happened to his friend. How could he react like that? Sephiroth smirked slightly.

"'Highwind' looked like he could take care of himself..."

"What do you mean by that!?" Vincent found his voice rising angrily. "He came to me in tatters! How could you say he could handle it?"

"He lived, didn't he?"

Vincent wasn't able to formulate a response to that in words in his outrage, only clenching his fists angrily and glaring. The faint smile faded from his face as Sephiroth continued speaking.

"The point of the matter is that I watch. I watch and I do not intervene, but in this case, I'm going to make an exception."

"Why?" Vincent interrupted him, but Sephiroth continued speaking as if he had never said a word, thus silencing the black-haired youth until he was finished.

"I watch. I know everything that happens here. I am the walls, I am the doors, I hear and see everything that goes on, although many people do not know. I could prevent a lot of things, should I so desire. But I normally decide to remain neutral, only intervening when I believe its the only option."

He walked slowly closer to Vincent, who backed away, his steps getting smaller and smaller. Sephiroth was getting far too close for comfort, and Vincent was feeling frightened again as well as intimidated by his presence.

"In this case, I believe it is the only option." He paused in front of Vincent, staring down at him. Vincent felt very small and very frightened, but he tensed his face in a show of anger and rebellion, not wanting to show such weakness in front of him. "I've come to warn you. The Weapons are not happy with what has been happening, and they are planning on catching one of you by yourselves later this week." Sephiroth paused for a moment, putting a finger to his cheek in apparent thought. "Thursday, I believe. Either way, they intend on dealing with one of you for good that day, disregarding the direct orders of Hojo and Jenova."

Sephiroth smiled softly for a moment. "Such disobediance would get them suspended, possibly expelled...but they aren't intending on having either of you 'tell' on them."

Vincent continued to stare at him, a slight idea of what he was getting at forming in the back of his mind. Sephiroth replaced his hand in his pocket, staring down at Vincent again with his calm face.  
"They're going to ransom one of you against the other. Blackmail, in terms. I wanted to warn you."

Vincent tried to comprehend this, worry for Cid, alone as he walked back to his dorm, flooding his system, looking down for a brief moment before returning his gaze back to Sephiroth's. His voice was still distrusting and angry.

"Why should I trust you? Why would you warn us anyway? If you've never done this for anyone else, why us?"

Vincent's entire body jerked as he felt unwanted contact on his shoulder, Sephiroth's hand. He pulled his shoulder away violently, feeling as if he had been burned, stumbling back in alarm until he bumped into a nearby bench, noting the complete lack of emotion or concern over his reaction in the silver-haired mans face. He quickly put his claw over the shoulder, as if he had been wounded, frightened and also angry. Sephiroth's voice again held no emotion.

"Would you believe its because I cared?"

Vincent's response was quick. "No."

Sephiroth smirked at that, his boot scuffing the sidewalk for a moment. "Good, you're not as hopeless as I thought."

Vincent didn't respond, simply staring at him with suspicion and distrust. He could feel his claws tightening around his shoulder, the tips poking through the fabric of his coat. Sephiroth paused for a moment, then finally turned back to him.

"As I said before, my reasons are my own."

He turned and began to walk up the sidewalk, the opposite direction that Vincent had been heading. Staring at him, Vincent managed to galvanize himself to move away from the bench and back to the path, eyes fixed on the curtain of silver that moved slowly away from him. Sephiroth seemed to sense his eyes on his back and turned slightly, regarding Vincent with another predatory smirk before digging into his pocket. He held something in his palm for a moment, then his voice held a tinge of laughter in it, something that made it all the more frightening.

"Oh yes, tell your 'Highwind' that he forgot this when he left your room."

He tossed a small object at Vincent, who moved until he was underneath the arc, catching it lightly between claws and fingers.  
It was the cup and ball toy that he had been playing with before.  
Vincent stared at it for several moments, several emotions flashing through his system, before managing to pull his head upwards, his mouth open to call to Sephiroth...

But he wasn't there. 

The entire street was deserted, as if he had never been there in the first place, and Vincent let his body shiver, the small hairs on his arm rising as he put the toy back into his pocket. He held onto his upper arms as he fairly ran back to his dorm, feeling violated and watched.

Out of sight of the dark youth, Sephiroth smirked to himself as he continued walking, heading in the direction of Cid's dorm. "You would indeed be a fool to think I care...I only possess."

~~~

When Vincent made it back to his room, he found it unsurprisingly empty. Frightened, he closed the door, checking it to make sure it was really locked, before placing the toy on his desk. He then proceeded to investigate the entire room, checking in his closets, in the corners of the walls, in his drawers, and around his computer. He didn't find anything, although he wasn't sure what he was trying to find. Cameras? Microphones? He didn't know.

He didn't feel safe in his room anymore.

He pulled the blinds on the window, feeling awkward and sick inside from the rush of emotions that had come over him in such a short time, and he went to his bed, not wanting to undress as he slid underneath his covers, wrapping himself in them completely before finally drifting off to an uneasy and troubled sleep.

~~~

"#$^@in' fairy."

"@#$^in' drugwhore."

Reno and Cid sat on either side of their room, separated by a curtain the two had put up so they wouldn't have to look at one another, arms crossed and sullenly amusing themselves in their own ways, Cid playing at his computer while Reno watched TV with the volume up obnoxiously loud. They occasionally traded insults back and forth, but they apparently didn't want to invest in a complete, full-scale argument.

Cid continued typing angrily at his computer, amusing himself by visiting some of his favorite sites, trying to channel his anger somewhere else.

A knock came on the door.

"It's prob'ly your #$^@#in' goth-#$# fairy boyfriend, #$^@er."

"Unless it's your #$@$in' bald-#$^ fairy drugdealer, mother#$^#er."

Cid got up from his chair and headed to the door, grumbling to himself. He opened it, not really looking at who was outside before turning back into the room.

"Right, catface. I'll take 'em in a sec', leave it on th' floor..."

"I'm not Reeve, Cid."

The cold, silken voice sent chills up Cid's spine as he turned to get a full look at who was standing outside the door.

"Nor am I Rude, Reno."

"Yeah, #$^# you too." Reno called distractedly from the other side of the room. Cid continued to stare that the far taller, silver-haired man who stood in his doorway. He gestured for a moment to the hallway.

"May I speak with you?"

Cid was frightened, instinctually frightened for some reason, but he sure as #$^# wasn't going to let him know. He stepped out easily, shrugging confidentally as he closed the door behind him. "Yeah sure, whatever."

"I'm going to make this quick. I'm Sephiroth. I've been watching you for some time. I have something to tell you."

"Great, goin' t'tell me I've got super-powers or that you're my father now or somethin'?" Cid's fear manifested itself in anger, and he crossed his arms, not sure of what reaction to expect from such a cold, composed person. "Jesus christ, ain't got nothin' better to do?"

Sephiroth's face twitched for a moment, nothing more. He grabbed Cid's shoulder, hard, and Cid felt a flare of pain from an old, residuary bruise there. He grimaced, trying to pull away, but his grip was strong and cold. Cid felt another surge of panic rise into him, which manifested itself again into fury. "Get th' #$^# off me! What th' #$^@ d'you want?"

"I'm not here to play games with you, Cid. You're in danger. You can ask Vincent about it."

"What th' #$^#? How do you know Vin?" Cid glared at him with both outrage and a small amount of fear, and the lack of emotion in Sephiroth's face only helped feed Cid's anger.

"I said it before, I've been watching. You're going to be attacked. Tomorrow, or rather, Tuesday."

"Attacked?" Cid's mind flashed back a memory of fists and boots, and he could feel his body ache in response. Sephiroth shook him quickly, although Cid had shown no sign of drifting off.

"Yes. Tuesday. Remember that. Vincent knows more."

Cid tried to pull his shoulder away again, not appreciating the contact, but Sephiroth refused to relinquish his grip, holding onto him with frightening strength. "Why th' #$^@in' #$^# should I believe you? I just #^#@in' met you, you #$^#in' stalker."

Sephiroth released his grip on Cid's shoulder, who wrenched away from him sharply, lowering himself into a crouch, prepared to fight back if Sephiroth should try anything else. He closed his eyes, crossing his arms. "Five."

"What th' #^$#-" Cid began, but Sephiroth cut him off.

"Four."

Cid stood there in utter confusion, taking the opportunity to move further away from the man. Some psycho comes and tells him he's going to get attacked, says he knows Vincent, and then just counts in the hallway for no reason? Cid was honestly getting freaked out, and it was showing in his jerky, quick motions.

"Three." Sephiroth opened an eye and looked at Cid for a moment. "Two."

He pointed to his left. "One."

Cid looked in that direction to see Reeve just top the stairs, carrying the bag filled with alcohol he had given him before. Reeve noted him, then saw Sephiroth and balked, not sure of how to respond. Sephiroth turned smoothly, his voice again frighteningly calm.

"Reeve, please come join us."

Reeve, his tail lashing back and forth with obvious fright, slowly moved forward to join Cid and Sephiroth in the hall, glancing back and forth at them nervously.

"Um..."

"I'm Sephiroth." He put a hand to his chest quietly, then stood and crossed his arms. "I just came to tell Cid something, so I'll be on my way."

Reeve stared at him in confusion, his arms shifting nervously, the bottles inside clinking along with his motion. "Uh, I guess. Um...how do you know my name?"

Cid's voice was angry and suspicious. "He's a #$^#in' stalker, that's why."

Sephiroth smiled at Reeve in a frightening fashion, who responded by laying his ears back and backing away. "I watch. I know things. And I know that your friends are going to be attacked, Reeve. I wanted to warn them."

"Why th' #^$# would you warn us, anyway?" Cid straightened to his full height, which didn't even compare to Sephiroth's. "We don't #$^#in' know you. Why th' #$^# you stalkin' us, anyway?"

"I have my reasons."

"Um..." Reeve interrupted their argument, his ears still laid back, his voice light in an effort to hide his unease. "I'd _love_ to stay and chat, but you're _really_ starting to creep me out, Seph, and these are kind of heavy, so..."

"Right, right...put 'em on my bed..." Cid turned to open the door while Sephiroth remained strangely silent. He let Reeve into his room and turned to find Sephiroth gone, as if he had never been in the hallway in the first place.

On the floor, however, was a bloody scrap of blue cloth.

"What th' #$^#...?" Cid kneeled for a moment, soon feeling the presence of Reeve behind him, ears twitching and tail thumping against the floor.

"What is it?"

"Holy $%#..." Cid held the scrap in his hands, staring at it with wide, unbelieving eyes. Reeve sat down next to him, taking the scrap out of his hands with one quick, blurred movement, looking at it carefully.

"Looks like your shirt." Reeve turned and glanced at Cid and held the scrap against his shoulder. "Even the same color!"

"That's just it..." Cid's face was white as he took the scrap back from Reeve, staring at it carefully. "It's from my other blue shirt...th' one that got #$^#in' ripped to pieces when th' god#%^# Weapons got me..."

Reeve sat there in silence, his tail scraping against the carpeted hallway once before stilling. He tried to make eye-contact with Cid, but he was staring fixedly into the wall, his blue eyes troubled and somewhat frightened. Reeve's voice was soft.

"What's it mean?"

Cid finally turned, meeting eyes with Reeve. "Means a whole #$^#in' load of #$^#'s goin' down...an' me an' Vin are important for some reason..."

"I wonder why..." Reeve took the piece back, staring at it in his thin hands.

"$%&$in' beats th' #$^# out of me..." Cid eased himself back upwards, brushing himself off distractedly. "Means that #$^#er's been watchin' like he said tho'..."

"What a creepy guy." Reeve pushed himself back up easily, his tail moving slowly back and forth. "I wonder what he wants."

Cid thought for a moment, then cursed. "#&%#, he's prob'ly got enough #$^@ on me an' Vin t'make us regret ever bein' here. #$^#, he's prob'ly goin' t'pull this in on us later. #@%#. @$^@!" Cid contemplated punching the wall but thought better of it. "I #^$#in' hate owin' people."

"When did he say it was going to happen?"

"Tomorrow. Mother #^$#er." Cid snarled to himself as he went back in his room. "I can't #^#@in' believe this."

Reeve followed him, and the door clicked shut behind them.

Outside, sitting on one of the benches outside the dorm, Sephiroth sat, legs crossed, arms resting on the back of the bench as he stared upwards, a smile on his face.

"Reacted just as I thought he would. Far too predictable. Not to mention gullible." He inclined his head slightly towards the moon, the rays causing his hair to shimmer. "Both too gullible for their own good. Wednesday..."

He smiled, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket, flipping through the pages busily until he came near the end, pausing. "Yes, Wednesday...that should be perfect."

He stood, putting the notebook, along with the pen that had been trapped within it's spiral spine, back into his pocket. He stood, smiling to himself, as he faded into the night. 


	18. Not to Plan

Vincent sighed as he slid into his customary seat in the backrow of the classroom, letting his backpack fall beside his chair. He was early, but he always had a habit of being early. One of the sayings that he had learned long ago and had never successfully rid himself of was "It's better to be fifteen minutes early then five minutes late."

Despite Vincent's many arguments to himself over the validity of the saying, it never quite left him, and he often found himself being somewhat compulsive when he had to show up somewhere at a certain time. When he was alone, he was almost always early to everything.

However, since Cid had come along, he had found his normal early nature being thrown off, although it didn't really bother him unduly. He had always disliked that part of his nature that insisted on being early, always viewing it as a kind of subservience to whoever or whatever it was he was waiting for. He knew it was silly, but he was actually somewhat glad that he was finally beginning to override the phrases influence on his behavior.

Prof. Hojo arrived almost eerily on time for each class, almost the exact second the when it was supposed to begin, so Vincent didn't run any risk of being alone with the professor. He was thankful for that, as he wasn't in the mood mentally or emotionally to deal with the Professor finding some weakness he had yet to exploit and then proceeding to use that against him in the most horrible way possible. He must have had a talent for it; Hojo managed to find any weakness in anyone, any soft spot, any potential embarassing moment or belief, and completly turn it against his victim. Although Vincent did not approve of the practice, he found it interesting that Hojo was so skilled at it. Did he practice? How long had he done this? What kind of mind enabled him to analyze a prospective victim so quickly and so carefully, much less deduce the most painful way possible to deal with them?

He must have had a very logical, scientific method to do so, which was only more puzzling considering that this was a class on Human Emotions. Was that why he did this, in some kind of bizarre study of human emotions under duress? Or was he just a sadist? Did Hojo teach this class because it was easy to find victims, or was it because the field interested him? Why would he be interested in Human Emotions...?

Probably because he doesn't have any...Vincent felt a rise of bitterness against the man within him, resenting all the things he had to go through because of him. All the pain that he had caused to both him AND Cid, all the unhappiness and depression he had fostered, the arguments he started, all the problems he had created, not even considering the one that was looming in his face at that moment, unable to be forgotten. The problem of Thursday. Thursday...

Although Sephiroth DID have Cid's toy, that didn't prove that there truly was going to be an attack. Anyone could have made up a story, especially considering that what had happened to Cid that night was not exactly a secret. It would have been easy to use that information to create a story that would play off the two's fears and worries. There was still no proof of an attack at any time, no proof of there being a plan to hurt the two of them in revenge, despite how plausible it seemed.

However, what Cid's toy DID prove was that Sephiroth was following them, watching them and who knows how many others. The only thing it had proved was that they were under surveillance, constant surveillance. He held onto his upper arms subconsciously, staring at the rest of the students who were still trickling in, who noticed Vincent sitting in the back then felt more at ease coming in slightly early. 

Was Sephiroth watching him now? Had he seen what had happened that day that had caused so much trouble, that had started those malicious rumors? How much of this could have been avoided had Sephiroth done something? Why didn't he act or do anything?

He could not figure out the silver-haired man's motives, although he had racked his mind to think of something that Sephiroth could want from him. Vincent had no real possessions of any material worth, just books and his computer. What could Sephiroth want from him? He didn't understand, and he had tried to give up the question the night before when it continually would resurface as he tried to sleep, although he tried to suppress it.

How often was he watching him? He couldn't watch him all the time, he had to go to his own classes. Maybe he watched Vincent from some unknown vantage point during class. Maybe he was watching him right now. Maybe he wasn't. Vincent couldn't be sure anymore.

The thought of someone watching him, staring at him, knowing what he said and did, was frightening to him. He had been self-conscious before, but now he was beginning to feel somewhat paranoid. As a result, he was wearing a long-sleeved large sweater that day to try and hide himself further, despite the heat. He hated people staring at him, he hated that, and he wanted as many layers between him and his observer as possible. 

The entire experience had begun to make him wonder just how many people were looking at him when he wasn't paying attention. Was he so unobservant as to not notice Sephiroth at all over a weeks time? He had obviously been following him to know what he did, but how could Vincent have not noticed? Was Sephiroth that stealthy, or was he just that careless? How many people stared at him when he wasn't paying attention, wondered about him, studied him?

He hated being stared at. He hated being put on display, he hated having to be different so that people would stare at him, he hated having to be a monster, a freak to other people, and he knew that was what they had to think when they saw him or his arm, there was no other option...

He leaned his head down on his arms on the desk, striving to banish such depressing thoughts from his mind, and watched more people come into the classroom, trying to clear his mind. Among them he saw the diminuitive jester twins, talking softly to one another. They both looked completely exhausted, moreso then the previous day, but Vincent was getting somewhat used to it...whatever it was they did, it completely tired them out, and they often looked worried and stressed as well. He wondered what it was they did all day, and how they managed to take care of classes and whatever work they had to do. He marveled and somewhat envied their dedication and focus.

As they walked by, Vincent waved slightly with one of his free hands, and although they returned the gesture, they went to their own seats near the wall. He didn't blame them, considering...he barely knew them, and they barely knew him...there was still an edge of awkwardness to their relationship that needed to be worn away under time and effort, but at the moment there were more important things to be taken care of.

He waited and watched other people walk in, looking for Sephiroth in case he just hadn't been paying attention over time without success, until he saw Cid come in. The blonde looked more worried and bit more tired then usual, and Vincent guessed he hadn't slept well either. He sat down quickly, immediately leaning over to Vincent.

"Are you okay?"

Vincent was slightly confused at the sudden inquiry as to his welfare. "Yeah...I'm fine. Why?"

"Hoo, that's a relief." Cid breathed a sigh and leaned back, looking visibly more relaxed. He turned to Vincent again, resting his crossed arms on the desk. "Let me guess, did that silver-haired #$^#er visit you too?"

Vincent nodded for a moment, considering asking how Cid knew, but then guessing that his appearance would be just as telling as his own. He doubted he looked much better then Cid did, considering he had slept little the previous night. "Yes...he told me we were in danger..."

Cid leaned back, sighing again. "Yeah, $@#%. An' we don't have enough time t'think of a plan or anythin'...#$#@..."

Vincent sighed softly as Hojo entered the room. He wondered who would be his unlucky victim today. Would he target Zorn and Thorn again, or would he go back to his old staples of Cid and Vincent? He hated not knowing, and he hoped today that he would be spared the humiliation. He wasn't in the mood for it. "We do have until Thursday..."

"Thursday?" Cid looked at him for a moment, then shifted back into his original position, leaning on his desk. "I thought it was Tuesday..."

Vincent looked at him. "But...he told me Thur-..." It finally struck him, and he put a hand on his head, shaking it back and forth slowly. "Great, he must have done that on purpose...now we won't know for sure when they'll attack or not..."

"Well #$^# Vin..." Cid lowered his voice to a whisper as Hojo began speaking. "I mean, we don't even know it's really goin' to happen anyway. He was prob'ly jus' tryin' t'scare us or somethin'.

"Yeah..." Vincent didn't feel convinced, and he didn't want to let his guard down. "Doesn't hurt to be careful though...but why would he try to scare us anyway? We've never done anything to him..."

"Ah Vin, y'know as well as I do y'don't need a reason to pull this kind've $%&$ on someone. Speakin' of which...what exactly is goin' t'happen?" Cid looked somewhat annoyed. "He jus' said some #$^# about bein' attacked an' off an' vanished. Scary #$^#er."

Vincent kept his voice to a whisper, keeping his eyes ahead. "He said something about the Weapons coming after us...blackmail us with the other's safety into staying quiet..."

Cid paused for a moment, then let out a slow breath. "Not pullin' any punches. But that's still no proof that anythin' that silver #$^#head said is true."

"I know..." Vincent stopped when he noted the Professors gaze glancing in his direction. He waited until he turned his head again before resuming. "But we should be careful anyway..."

"Can't #$^#in' believe we're bein' stalked an' #$^@in' blackmailed by some crazy dumb#$^@s who think..." Cid let his rant fade off, lips moving along with the words with no sound. Vincent looked down towards his paper, letting a few loose circles escape his pen.

They spent the rest of the class in relative silence in hopes of avoiding Hojo's questions and, fortunately, succeeded. The jester twins, who took short naps in shifts during the class, also avoided his notice, which both Cid and Vincent were thankful for.

Prof. Hojo didn't isolate anyone that day, simply picking people occasionally to answer questions and then shooting them down. Although there was general bad feeling, at least no one felt as if they had been singled out. Secretly, although no one in the class had been spared at least one question, they were glad they didn't have to witness another person squirming underneath the trick questions. There was some enjoyment at watching people suffer, but there was also some discomfort and sympathy, because it was always possible that you would be the next person up there.

The two of them left the class with visible relief, feeling Hojo stare into them as they walked by, but he fortunately didn't say anything.

As they walked outside of the building, they caught a glimpse of black underneath the shade of one of the trees, and recognized the form as Reeve, sitting with a book on his lap, staring at it intently, emerald eyes moving quickly. His ears were constantly flicking back and forth as small insects tried to investigate them, and his tail twitched only occasionally through the grass.

"$%&#, that's kind of surreal." Cid scratched his head for a moment. "Like th' #$^#in' Twilight Zone or somethin'. I haven't seen catface _touch_ a #$^#in' book, much less #$#@in' read one." 

Vincent shrugged. "That's probably Reeve studying for once...I bet Cait Sith is taking a break...we should probably let him study though."

"Greedy #$#@er, studyin' when I want t'hang out." Cid crossed his arms and put on a displeased expression for a moment before smiling and shrugging. "Eh, whatever."

"Want to grab something to eat?" Vincent continued walking, Cid joining his pace easily.

"Sure, what the #$^#."

~~~

Throughout the day they were treated with stares from others around them, suspicious ones along with the hateful and curious ones they had gotten before. They were getting better at ignoring them though, although it was still slightly painful.

Cid decided to stay with Vincent for the rest of the free time during the day. Because they had been given two different accounts of the supposed attack, it threw the rest of the entire prediction into question. The attack could come at any time, so they might as well be cautious.

However, they still had work to do as it was, the workload increasing as time went along, and Cid had papers he needed to rewrite for his writing class, while Vincent had to erase and redo drawings, still accused of being too "sharp and gothic". They decided the best place to do this work was Vincent's room, considering that Reno openly stated how much he detested both of them, and Cloud was never home.

They put on a CD softly while they both worked, Cid typing furiously at the computer while Vincent worked on his bed, erasing and sketching carefully. Occasionally from either of them there would be a sound of frustration, or a sigh of boredom, and it was obvious by how sometimes Cid would venture off to check on his site, or Vincent would draw his own characters, that their assignments held little interest to either of them.

They eventually bid farewell as night came, Cid calling Reeve to walk with him as he went back to his dorm, still not trusting the night alone.

Vincent was left alone in the room again, and his paranoia again manifested. Was Sephiroth watching him right now? What did he WANT? He wished he knew, just so that he could get rid of him...the silver-haired man had greatly unsettled him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted those predatory eyes to be watching him. He felt extremely awkward changing for bed, and he hid behind one of the closet doors after drawing the blinds for the room. He didn't know where and how he was being watched, but he felt better having the window covered anyway.

Why was Sephiroth doing this to them? Why did he care what happened to them? Why did he take such an interest in them, anyway? They did have their little quirks, but there were others who were far more strange. Well, at least his claim to Cid had been untrue...the Weapons hadn't made any sort of move today. Maybe he was lying about the whole thing...

Unless that was what he wanted them to think, to throw them off guard...but why would he do that? Did he get some kind of joy watching other people in pain? If that were true, then he wouldn't have bothered to warn either of them of the incoming attack, only watching as it proceeded.

Maybe he liked irony. That could be a possibility.

Vincent lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, no closer to any answers then he had been before. The fact that Sephiroth had lied to Cid did not make things any simplier, and in fact only complicated the matter further. If he had been watching them as intently as he had claimed, then he knew the two of them would talk about it in class, and the discrepancies in time would become obvious...

What on earth was he planning? What did he hope to accomplish with all this planning and subterfuge? Was he trying to get them to argue? What on earth could he gain from having the two of them get into an argument again? If that was what he was waiting for or wanted to get, he could have just taken the opportunity beforehand when they had argued the previous week. Sephiroth had nothing to gain from breaking them apart...

The two of them must have had something or some ability that Sephiroth wanted in return for his information. Vincent paused for a moment. Maybe it wasn't anything that he had that Sephiroth wanted, but something of Cid's? But what did the blonde own that would have interested him? Cid had his computer and a few books...

Maybe it was his alcohol. Vincent considered this option, then turned it away. Sephiroth didn't seem like the type who would drink, and going through such an elaborate scheme to get something which he seemed able to get legally anyway was ludicrous. Going after Cid's alcohol couldn't be it...

What did they have that he wanted? What could possibly interest Sephiroth? He didn't know anything about him...Vincent made a note to ask some people the next day about him, to see if he could find anything out that may help him figure out why the silver-haired man had taken such an interest in them.

Vincent sighed, resting his arm against his forehead for a moment, letting the metal cool him. He just didn't understand this entire thing, and it was getting very frustrating. He hated mental puzzles like these that he couldn't solve. He gradually fell asleep, still feeling vulnerable and, more then that, painfully confused.

~~~

There was a vague form above him...he didn't know what it was...it felt evil, but not in an active way. It was a looming, quiet force, an influence. He could even see it, the dark shadow over him, covering the sky, red eyes glinting for moments within the blackness that could be considered its body. Was it one thing or many? It was hard to tell, it broke apart and dodged his eye like the elusive small things he saw when he was extremely tired that vanished from sight whenever he tried to focus on them. So many pairs of eyes seemed to suggest that it was made of several bodies, but they blinked in and out of existence so often that it was hard to tell that they were there at all.

It didn't have a head, just a giant expanse of body, spreading constantly across the rapidly diminishing sky. It wasn't targeting him, just spreading over him. Whatever this thing was doing, it wasn't interested in Vincent or, as he guessed, in any other single targets as well. It seemed more interested in a larger being or concept that it was battling with, and Vincent's discomfort as a side-effect of this war.

It wasn't frightening in a straight-forward way...it gave him a sense of unhappiness, a gradual feeling of something bad happening or going to happen that he was powerless to stop. It made him feel strange and unhappy inside, along with frightened and small, and he waited for what always came in these dreams. The rushing sound, the bang, the white light, and the pain, the horrific, pulsing, hideous pain, constant and persistant, until it just stopped, abruptly...just like how everything stopped in that one moment, the bang and the white light, and everything stopped.

He waited, and just as he thought, it came.

He woke up again in bed, breathing heavily, putting his metal claw to his forehead in an familiar practice to cool himself. He sighed and shook his head for a moment. He hated nightmares, but what he hated even more was that he always knew how they ended, and yet it still scared him, still terrified him.

He hated his mind for doing this to him, and he flopped angrily onto his side, cursing his mind and hoping that, for once, he wouldn't have any dreams or nightmares after waking up like this in the middle of the night.

He knew his own patterns too well for that, however.

Now he was falling. That had never frightened him, and he actually found the feeling of it kind of pleasant. He liked the wind pulling at his hair, the cushion of air that formed underneath his limbs as he fell. He was falling from somewhere into something, both locations indistinct and unimportant.

He could catch things going by in the corners of his vision, small things that he couldn't identify. He caught a vague sense of evil intent however, and he even turned in the air, trying to get a better glimpse of what was on the outskirts of his vision, but it continued to elude him.

He fell for an indeterminate length of time, not sure how long it was, before he finally fell into something. By the sudden surge of nausea and the sick, creeping feeling in his limbs, he guessed it was that dark force from the earlier nightmare. That was interesting...normally things like this didn't repeat in his dreams...

What he didn't expect to happen after that was to be jerked into consciousness, staring at the ceiling, with the feeling of nausea still well in place. Not even considering the possibility of waiting for it to go away, Vincent staggered to his feet, stumbling out the door and down the hallway.

As he sat on the bathroom floor, his entire body shaking, breathing shallowly from his mouth and trying to fight back dry heaves, he found himself wondering why whatever omnipotent being up there decided to screw with him this time.

~~~

He could hear the annoying sound of the alarm going off, and he shuddered back to awareness. The night was somewhat hazy in his recollection, and he couldn't exactly remember how he got back to bed or what had happened after that, but he was fairly positive that the nausea had decided to stay for now. He turned to one side, fighting his bodys reaction to the movement, and stared at the clock, trying to remember why it had gone off this early.

He moaned as he remembered. His art class, he had to go to his art class. Wait...did he? What day was it?

Either way, he could barely move his head without feeling sick again, he wasn't about to drag himself out of bed at this hour. He managed to move his arm enough to turn the alarm off, and he lay back, closing his eyes, hoping that the sickness would pass. He felt too weak to get up and do anything else.

His mind sluggishly turned over reasons why he had gotten sick. He doubted his nightmare was the cause, as he had never gotten sick as a result of his dreams before, but he didn't know what else he could attribute it to. Was it the food? If it had been, it would have had an affect on him before now...

He didn't know what had made him sick and he didn't feel like thinking about it. He let himself drift off to sleep once again, hoping that would help him feel better.

~~~

"Where is he...?" Cid sat alone in Hojo's class, filled with concern over Vincent's behalf. His chair remained disturbingly empty and he hadn't seen his friend all day. He hadn't heard from him since last night, and he began to wonder if maybe the Weapons had made good on their threats. He was deeply worried, and vowed that right after class he would go and check Vincent's room to see if he was alright. He even noticed Zorn and Thorn glancing at Vincent's empty chair with confusion. "What happened...?"

He was mumbling under his breath, not wanting to attract attention to himself, but ironically, Vincent's absence made Cid's presence all the more obvious.

"Highwind..."

"#$^@." Cid cursed under his breath at the sound of Hojo's voice pronouncing his name, and he looked up, trying to look confident. Prof. Hojo was staring at him with an odd sense of amusement. "Yes?"

"Highwind, just out of curiousity, where's your...better half?"

"#%$^ if I know." Cid said with a flare of resentment, crossing his arms and leaning back. Anger was quick to cover up any other emotions he had been entertaining before he had been interrupted.

"You don't know?" Hojo put a hand to his mouth for a moment in a mocking way, imitating a thoughtful pose. "How very strange, considering the two of you are rarely apart..."

There were some muffled giggles from the rest of the class that read more deeply into the statement then Hojo had actually intended, but Cid rolled his eyes in response.

"@#$%, I don't know. He's somewhere."

"Well yes, I suppose that would logically follow..." Hojo looked off to the sky for a moment, finger poised near his chin. He glanced in Cid's direction again. "And you don't know where?"

"I said I didn't!" Cid was beginning to get frustrated. "Jesus #$^@, I don't #$^@in' keep tabs on 'im every #$^#in' minute! I HAVE a life you know."

"Oh yes, I know..." Hojo smiled to himself for a moment. "I am aware of that. But it's just so...unlike the two of you. Not to know where he is and all..."

"Jesus $#%^in' Christ, we're not together every god#$^# moment of th' $^@$in' day!" Cid clenched his fists angrily, the stifled mutterings and whispers from the rest of the class further igniting his anger.

"I'm sure you aren't." Hojo smiled in a condescending way. "It just _seems_ that way."

Cid angrily leaned back, getting more and more frustrated with the entire conversation, gesturing with sharp, quick motions. "I don't know, #^#$, maybe th' #$^@in' Weapons got 'im or somethin', Jesus..."

Hojo grew serious at this and turned towards Cid directly, staring at him with utmost seriousness. "I assure you, that is not a possibility."

Cid regarded him levelly. "Doesn't really #$^#in' reassure me."

"Please tell me once you discover the whereabouts of Valentine. I would like to be kept informed." Hojo turned away from Cid, heading back towards the board. Cid waited for a continuation of the argument, but Hojo merely resumed speaking as if nothing had happened. Cid watched him with a mixture of confusion and surprise. He really hadn't expected Hojo to give up that quickly. It was unlike him.

Hojo didn't call on Cid or even look at him for the rest of the class. He proceeded as he had the previous day, shooting down everyone and not singling out anyone. Cid still felt somewhat confused however, and when class ended he was actually relieved that the conflict with Hojo had not gone further then it did.

When he was walking down the steps, Hojo stopped him.

"Yeah?" Cid didn't want to have to wait, he was worried about Vincent and wanted to find out what was wrong, and he didn't want to have to talk to Hojo about what he had done that class and how he shouldn't behave that way. He was already beginning to find such conversations with Tellah, which he was beginning to have on a regular basis, very boring.

"Where is Valentine?"

"I told you before, I don't know." Cid crossed his arms. Hojo was very serious, and it made Cid somewhat suspicious. "I'm #$^#in' serious. Why th' $#@# do you care?"

"The Weapons are not responsible, I have made sure of that. Believe me, they would not harm you or your 'friend'." Cid didn't like his tone. "However, do know that I do not approve of unexcused absence, and I want to know why he wasn't here."

"I'll tell you when I #$^#in' know for myself. You'll just have t'wait." Cid turned with that, walking out of the room angrily. Hojo didn't say anything when he left, although Cid kind of felt like he should have. He dismissed the feeling as he stalked down the hallway, feeling very annoyed. 

Why the #$^# would that #$^#er want to know what happened to Vin? Why would it matter to him? He bet he was responsible anyway. #$@$er. He wasn't his #^$@in' errand boy. He'd tell him on his own #$^#in' time, #$^# it.

He began the trek to Vincent's dorm, his feelings of anger gradually subsiding again into worry and confusion. What had happened to Vincent? It probably wasn't the Weapons, considering that it was midday and bright outside and they probably couldn't have gotten away with it. Not to mention that Hojo apparently had some kind of power over them or something.

But why else would Vincent miss class? Maybe he was sick or something...he hoped it was something that simple.

As he continued walking, his steps quick and fast, he was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't notice who or what he was walking by. Had he been paying more attention, however, he would have noticed he passed Sephiroth for a brief moment, who was leaning against a brick wall, angrily muttering to himself.

"This isn't going to plan at all..." 


	19. Waiting Room

~Author's Note~

Woulda had this up earlier, but ffn went nuts. ^_^o More cameos in this one, this time from VIII, IX, VI/III and IV. As a reward, it's really long. ^_^o

And as a note, da songs that Reeve sings are da Dancemania verson of My Sharona by DJ Miko (I don't know who did it originally), The Way of the Sword by Power Symphony, and Mad World by Gary Jules.   


Vincent could hear the knocking at the door, and he groggily woke, pulling his head from his pillow with a great deal of effort. He had lost track of time and had no idea how long he had slept. He wasn't happy about being woken up, but he supposed that he must have slept long enough for someone to notice.

Or rather, Cid to notice, as Vincent was already almost positive that he would be the one knocking on the door. No one else would come to check on him if he hadn't gone to class...Reeve wasn't an option mainly because the two didn't share a class, and Reeve would most likely wait for Vincent to appear and explain what happened by himself. But, knowing Cid, he would have been worried and had not thought of trying to call, instead coming physically on the spur of the moment. It didn't surprise Vincent and it actually made him feel better. He was glad that someone had come to see what had happened to him, even though he still felt rather sick.

He pulled himself out of bed, dragging the sheets along with him for a short distance until he reached the door, opening it and blearily staring at Cid's face, who seemed both relieved and shocked. He blinked for a few moments before speaking.

"Jesus #^%@ your mother Christ, Vin, what th' @#$^ happened t'you? Did y'get hit by a #$^#in' bus or somethin'?"

Vincent was still wearing what he had been wearing the previous night, a black shirt and his black jeans, now worn and disheveled from sleep. His face was pale and worn, strands of his hair stuck to his skin, and his eyes were swollen and tired. He was still very shaky, and all of his movements had an element of instability that Vincent was obviously trying to fight without success. He pushed a palm to his sticky forehead, wishing he could push away the headache that insistently wore at him from behind his skin. His mouth and tongue felt large and clumsy, and he still felt somewhat dizzy from standing so suddenly. "Feels like it..."

"Jesus, have you been t'th' nurse yet? #%^#, Vin, Jesus." Cid hid his worry underneath a veil of annoyance as he grabbed Vincent's arm, gently pulling him out of the room. "You look like $%&#, @#$@."

"Jus' been tired..." Vincent blinked, not resisting Cid's tug out the door. He still felt somewhat wobbily on his feet and he wasn't in any state to try and fight against his friend. "Very tired..."

Cid turned and closed the door behind Vincent, leading him down the hall by his flesh arm at a slow pace. He was speaking without looking back at him. "Jesus, Vin, how long have y'been sick? #$^#, y'should've told me or somethin', we got t'get y'the nurse, #$^#..."

Vincent coughed for a moment, the sudden sharp change in his vision causing him to get slightly dizzy. He managed to recover quickly, only wavering back and forth for a few seconds. "Last night..."

"#^#$, did y'eat somethin'? #$#$, it wasn't that #$^#in' #$^@# Seph, was it?" Cid's voice took on a new tone of worry. He turned to look back at Vincent. "It wasn't 'im, right? Or th' #$^#in' Weapons? It wasn't them, right?"

Vincent shook his head back and forth slowly, his hair barely moving along with the motion. Cid breathed a sigh of relief as he continued walking. "Jesus #$^#in' Christ, can't #^#@in' believe this..."

Cid continued mumbling to himself through a transparent veil of anger as Vincent followed him submissively, not even bothering to look up, finding the struggle to keep his eyes level too much. He stared at his bare feet, watching them hit the carpet with an even cadence. At least he didn't feel sick at the moment...that was a relief. He just felt tired, sticky, and overall disgusting. More then anything he wanted to take a shower. The sound of Cid muttering to himself indignantly faded into the background as Vincent found his mind wandering away from him for a while.

Again he went to the questions that continued to bother him: What Sephiroth wanted and why he had gotten sick, but having found no answers for them yet, his mind moved onto easier questions and thoughts.

He must have missed class...Hojo's class, as that would have let Cid know that he was sick. So Cid must have come after class had ended to check on him...

Just the knowledge that Cid had come to do so made him feel better. While he had been lying in bed going in and out of consciousness he was struck with severe cases of self-pity, sure that no one cared that he was sick and no one would have done anything anyway. However, Cid's visit and insistance on visiting the nurse had helped prove that false, and Vincent was glad that he cared so much as to come see what was wrong. 

He really had been lucky that first day when Cid had run into him. Where would he be now if he hadn't?

Cid pushed open the door to the doctor's office, finding themselves not the only ones present. Reeve was sitting in the same chair they had seen him in earlier, this time with headphones placed firmly in his ears, bobbing back and forth and singing to himself. His tail flopped back and forth on one of the empty seats, going along with the beat that was barely audible from the muffled tiny speakers.

"Ooh, my little pretty one, my pretty one! When you gonna give me some tiiime, Sharona! Ooh, you make my motor run, my motor run! Got it comin' off o' the liiine, Sharona!"

Along with Reeve, although sitting a few seats away, Cid could see a few other people, all of them looking just as miserable as Vincent did, not doubt all afflicted with whatever had infected Vincent. He could recognize Cecil from the Talent Show, who was currently leaning up against the wall, looking miserable. He could catch a glimpse of what seemed to be a sword on his t-shirt before he turned away. Near him there was another Black Mage, this one apparently related to Three in some way because he sported the same blue wings, the feathers even the same blue shade. However, this one was far smaller then his tall, imposing brother, his size comparable more to Vivi, and his wings were small, tiny things against his back, essentially useless. He was hunched up against the wall, staring fixedly at a tiny bell he carried in one hand, his eyes a dim faint yellow. Next to him Cid recognized the thief Locke, also looking rather sick, although he was eyeing the winged mage's bell.

Next to him was another girl that seemed to resemble the youth Zidane. She was dressed mainly in reds and although she and Zidane shared the same hair style and color, her face anything but matched his. She was staring at the carpet with a sombre, almost emotionless expression, although she did look very pale. A tail, the same length and color of Zidane's, drooped limply over the side of the chair, and she refused to even awknowledge Cid or Vincent's presence, much less Locke's nearby.

A seat separated her and another woman, this one older and more refined looking, although she had the same pale, sickly look as the others around her. Her hair was blonde as well, although it was longer, and two long strands of it framed her face. Behind her head, the tail end of a doubled ponytail could barely be seen, and she was wearing in a pink sleeveless dress, her arms covered by long black sleeves, ending at her wrist and coming up to her shoulder. She was tapping one of her black, kneehigh boots, trying to look impatient rather then sickly. It didn't quite work.

Cid and Vincent headed for the two empty chairs near Reeve, who was still bobbing and singing to himself, despite the stares he was earning from the other people in the room. It wasn't that he was loud, his voice actually rarely ventured from a normal conversational tone. He just happened to be singing.

"Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind, I always get it up for the touch of the younger kind, my, my, my, aye-aye, wooo! M-m-m-my Sharona! M-m-m-my Sharona! Ooooooo, my Sharona!"

They sat down, Vincent leaning against the wall and trying to keep his stomach under control, as almost everyone else in the room seemed to be doing, save Cid and Reeve. Cid immediately turned to speak with Reeve, who seemed completely oblivious.

"Catface, what th' #$^# is goin' on?"

"M-m-m-my Sharona!"

Cid rolled his eyes and punched Reeve in the shoulder, which finally got his attention. He quickly pulled the headphones from his ears, where they continued to play tinny music as Reeve turned to Cid in surprise. He apparently didn't even register the blow to his arm, although it had not been hard.

"Hey spazboy, didn't see you come in!"

"What th' #$^#'s goin' on around here, catface? Everyone's gettin' #^$#in' sick."

Reeve shrugged helplessly, smiling in an odd way. "Beats me. Probably some bug that's goin' around or somethin'. Hey..." He leaned around Cid for a moment, noting Vincent leaning against the wall. "He's not lookin' good..." Cid pushed Reeve back into his seat playfully, but he rebounded back as if he had never been touched. "What happened?"

"Got me." Cid shrugged. "Missed class an' found him like this. Jesus, it must be goin' 'round quick."

"I guess..." Reeve flopped back into his own seat, finally realizing that his walkman was still playing and pressing the stop button. He thumped his chest for a moment, posing in what he thought was a macho manner. "Doesn't hit such paragons of health as myself though!"  
Cid rolled his eyes. "Real #$^#in' impressive. Don't bust out of your shirt or nothin'."  
Reeve ceased posing look mock thoughtful, screwing up his face in what he thought was an expression of deep, meaningful thought. "Although...if it stays away from healthy people, why hasn't it hit YOU?"

Cid swatted at Reeve in mock annoyance, but he dodged it easily. "More like we're #$^#in' lucky, catface."

"Yeah, probably." Reeve shrugged off the entire thing, leaning back and bobbing his head back and forth for a moment, humming the same song he had been singing before. He did this for a few seconds then returned to the conversation as if nothing had happened. "Either way, it's probably nothin' serious, so don't worry."

"I hope it ain't." Cid leaned back himself, wondering how many other people had been stricken with this sickness but hadn't had the strength to come to the nurse's office. He glanced at Vin, who had leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I sure as #$^# don't want it."

The door to one side opened, and a girl dressed in a nurse's uniform stepped out, her brown hair, curled upwards at the ends, stopping just at her white-clad shoulders. She was short, shorter then Cid (which made him feel better, actually), and her blue-green eyes shone with barely concealed excitement and energy. She looked down at a clipboard she held in one of her hands and called out to the room.

"May I see..." She looked back down at the clipboard, then up again quickly. If she found the name odd or peculiar, it wasn't obvious. "Black Waltz One?"

The winged Black Mage's eyes brightened at the sound of his name, and he shuffled off his chair, his wings flapping to help him move along. She smiled as he came towards her with what almost seemed to be a limping gait. "Great, great!"

One didn't say anything as she led him through the door, and it closed quickly. Cid sat for a moment, then struck his forehead.

"#$^#! We prob'ly need an appointment..."

"With this many people?" Reeve looked at Cid for a moment, his tone highly sarcastic. "Yeeeeah, I think so."

"Shut up." Cid stood, brushing himself off for a moment. His movement didn't even seem to be noticed by anyone else in the room, who apparently were too busy in trying to fight off the pain or nausea. He walked to the front desk, the girl with black hair typing there not noticing him until he tapped on the desk for a few moments. She stared at him with a tired look.

"Let me guess, you've got the flu too?"

"Well, not me, but a friend of mine..."

She sighed and picked up a clipboard from nearby, handing it up to Cid and then returning to her work. "Here, sign your..." She sighed and rolled her eyes for a moment. "Your _friend_'s name there and wait."

Cid didn't care for her attitude, but took the clipboard without protest. He scribbled down Vincent's name, noting the others before it. Cecil, Locke, One...

Mikoto and Quistis were names he couldn't attach faces to, but it wasn't any of his business anyway, so he left it at that and put the clipboard back down on the desk, returning to his seat.

"She's not very pleasant." Cid remarked, noting that Reeve was just about to turn his music back on when he sat down. He refrained from doing so, however, upon noticing Cid's return.

"Eh, Xu's not supposed to be working such a big shift." Reeve shrugged. "Not many people come in around this time of day anyway."

"Yeah, I guess..." Cid leaned back, letting the conversation dwindle off, sensing that Reeve wanted to listen to his music again. Reeve took the opportunity readily, turning his walkman back on and then proceeding to go back to bobbing back and forth happily. His tail, deprived of the space it had before, flipped back and forth on the side away from Cid, although it didn't have as much space as before, considering it was against a wall. He seemed to enjoy himself anyway, however, almost immediately forgetting about Cid's presence, or anyone else's for that matter.

"Come a little closer, huh, a-will ya, huh? Close enough to look in my eyeees, Sharona! Keepin' it a mystery, it gets to me, ruuunnin' down the length of my thiiigh, Sharona!"

Personally, Reeve's singing didn't bother Cid much. He actually had a rather nice voice, as the Talent Show had proven. Too bad Reeve was normally too shy to actually employ it. Cid couldn't believe he had managed to get Reeve to agree to do the show in the first place, considering that he had a terrible fear of performing in public. However, the experience apparently had given him some confidence he didn't previously have, enough to sing to himself in a waiting room filled with sick people. He did keep his eyes closed though...maybe he was pretending he was by himself.

Cid turned to Vincent, putting a hand to his shoulder, slightly concerned at how little movement his friend was showing. "You okay?"

Vincent slowly turned his head towards Cid, opening his eyes slightly. He had apparently been napping, and he nodded slowly in response to Cid's query. Cid took his hand away, and Vincent went back to his previous position, closing his eyes again with a slightly shaky exhale of breath.

A few minutes went by without incident, Cid beginning to get bored, even with Reeve's dancing antics to amuse him, and he began to wonder just how long this was going to take.

The clicking of the doorknob caught his attention, but it turned out it was the door to the office, not the one that One had gone through, and Cid leaned back, disappointed.

Two young men came through the door, one of them just slightly taller then the other. The taller one in front looked extremely annoyed and frustrated with his companion, dressed in predominantly purple, flowing clothes. His short hair seemed to match this motif, grey that slowly faded into purple, and the lower half of his face was covered by what seemed to be a purple mask. Following along behind him, obviously the sicker of the pair, was a much thinner young man, his hair bright blonde and flowing well past his shoulders. His blue eyes looked tired and sad, and he was dressed in large flowing clothes, predominantly pastel shades of red and green, a thin, red scarf looped once around his neck, and he overall had an extremely feminine air about him.

"Ooh, I never should have eaten that, I'm sure that's what's caused me to be sick, I'm sure of it..." The one behind him moaned, holding his forehead and staring at the ground. The taller male sat down angrily across the room from Cid, crossing his arms and almost snarling at his companion.

"Do you ever stop talking!? You act as if you're dying!"

The blonde man paled, sitting next to his surly companion, holding his hand to his mouth. "You don't think I'll die, do you? Oh, what would Anna do if I died? Oh, the pain, she couldn't bear it! Oh, I hope I don't die. I won't die, will I?"

The man next to him glared at him, his voice venemous. He emphasized each word with evidently wearing patience. "Sadly, no."

"Oh, I feel terrible..." The blonde man proceeded to follow the other sick people's example in the room and lean his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He put a hand to his forehead dramatically. "Why have I been stricken thus? Why, oh why..."

"If you start singing, I swear I'm going to..." The man next to him began, but then noticed the woman in the pink dress nearby. "Excuse me."

He stood and sat down next to her, proceeding to try and start a conversation with her that didn't seem to go well, considering he was obviously flirting outrageously with her.  
Cid nudged Reeve for a moment, causing the feline youth to again pull down his headphones. "What?"

"Who're they?"

Reeve turned his glance to where Cid had pointed, staring at the two newcomers for a few minutes. "Hmm...don't know. Look like Juniors though."

"Hmm..." Cid shrugged and leaned back against the wall, chancing a glance at Vincent as he did so. He wished he could fall asleep that easily and just pass all this waiting time.

The woman in pink eventually gave the grey-haired man the cold shoulder, and he returned to his seat with some reluctance, the blonde he had left behind still talking melodramatically to himself.

Cid waited and waited for what seemed like hours, finally getting one of the magazines nearby and flipping through it in an attempt to find something that would keep his interest. They were mostly pamphlets and advertisements for various services or the college itself, but he flipped through them in an effort to stave off boredom, which didn't have much success. God, he HATED being bored.

Eventually the door opened, and One walked out, holding a piece of paper with thin, blue-black scarred hands. He walked out the door without saying anything or looking at anyone, his tiny wings still beating to help him stay upright. She looked down at the clipboard again.

"Cecil?"

Slowly the young man near Vincent pulled himself off his chair and dragged himself through the door, looking as if he was in some other plane of reality the entire time. The blonde man managed to drag himself out of his self-pitying moans to wave to him as he passed by.

"Hi Cecil!"

Cecil didn't hear him, or if he did, he showed no signs of doing so. The door closed, and again the waiting room was silent, excepting the sounds of Reeve singing and the man across the room moaning to himself about how he had been "slighted by a true boon companion".

Realizing, much as Cid had, that he had to sign up in order to get an appointment, the man in purple went up and did so, Xu being just as short and annoyed with him as she had been with Cid. It was fairly obvious that he was there only to accompany his companion, and yet, with the way they behaved towards eachother, he was beginning to doubt that they were friends. That was slightly confusing...why else would he have come? Maybe he owed a favor to someone. Since the blonde one obviously knew Cecil, there could be a connection there...or maybe it was a request of Anna, considering that it was no secret that the grey-haired man was indeed greatly interested in the opposite sex?

Cid did praise his judgement on not attempting to hit on the woman with the tail though. Although her facial expression had not changed, she seemed to have an element of danger around her, and there was no chance that she would have returned his advances.

Reeve had long ago moved into a heavier, more rock-like song then the one he had been singing previously, and a sudden change in his tone caught Cid's attention. While before it had been a rather angry song, the tone suddenly became sadder.

"So many fellow warriors, many teeeears you must shed before your journey ends...for it's only just beeegun, for a glory wish, there is much to saaacrifiiice..." It then went back into the angrier tone it had before. Reeve's expression seemed to echo this, showing signs of frustration, anger, and determination. Cid was confused at this, wondering whether or not he just altered his expression due to the words he was singing, or whether or not he actually truly felt upset. It was hard to tell with Reeve who changed expressions so quickly. "Past is left behind for the one on the Way of the Sword! Fools are meant to fall, they'll get lost along the waaay!"

Cid tuned Reeve out again, leaning back and flipping through the magazine he was reading, or at least, attempting to find an article worth reading.

"Power Symphony." The voice came from across the room, catching Cid's attention, and he looked up. The blonde man was leaning on his elbows which rested on his knees, staring at Reeve. He nodded at Cid for a moment, noting that he had actually heard him. "He's listening to Power Symphony."

"Oh?" Cid nudged Reeve, bringing him back into the real world again.

"What?"

"He knows what you're listening to."

"Really?" Reeve smiled across the room. "It's hard to find! That's so cool that someone else knows it! I'm Cait Sith!" He turned and nudged Cid, who rolled his eyes."This is Cid."

"I'm Edward." The blonde man gestured to himself. He pointed the grey-haired man next to him. "That's Edge."

Edge didn't even look at the two across the room, keeping his arms crossed and refusing to speak, apparently studiously ignoring his companion.

"It's so cool that you know about Power Symphony!" Reeve continued. "They're great!"

"I love how they're all female!" Edward responded with the same kind of enthusiasm. Both Cid and Edge showed little interest in the conversation, and eventually Cid began to tune it out, returning back to his magazine while Edward and Reeve chattered back and forth about various songs they had heard at some point.

"Eric Satie?"

"I love him!"

Cid turned to check on Vincent again, finding his friend still sleeping against the wall, or at least, looking like he was. It was hard to tell at the moment, considering that Vincent could just be trying to get to sleep or just pretending to be asleep, although he had no motive for doing so. Cid shrugged and left it at Vincent was off in dreamland somewhere, which he was glad for, because it was fairly obvious to him when he saw him at first that he definitly wasn't happy in reality currently.

Reeve and Edward continued talking for some time until the door opened again, and the nurse came out once more, Cecil following along behind her. He was carrying a piece of paper, just as One had, and he moved for the door. Edward waved again, trying to get his attention without success, while the nurse read off her clipboard.

"Mikoto?"

The woman with the tail stood silently and walked towards the door, her tail dragging along behind her, twitching barely as it brushed the ground. She kept her eyes steadily focused on the ground, her mouth tight. Cid wasn't sure whether or not it was because she was angry or because she was trying to keep from being sick, but decided he was probably better off not knowing anyway.

That meant the woman in the pink dress was Quistis then by matter of default. Cid leaned back into his seat again, noting that Locke was now apparently pilfering magazines from a pile on the table. The only way he knew this was because there were five missing from them when he looked at them again, and he had no idea where they went. The only reasonable conclusion was that Locke had them, and by the way he looked as if he had anything but the magazines, it was almost proven. Locke was indeed a master thief, but Cid was beginning to wonder whether or not it was some kind of problem, considering there was absolutely no reason or benefit for Locke to steal the magazines, which he could easily get anywhere else.

Reeve and Edward continued talking to eachother for a while, until Reeve finally cut the conversation off as honestly as possible.

"I want to listen to my music now, is that okay with you?"

Edward nodded and showed no protest, so Reeve gladly went back into his world of music. Cid wondered if that was in part to his shyness. Cait Sith had indeed gotten along with Edward wonderfully, but he wondered if the inner Reeve had anything to do with the conversation ending on such an abrupt note. He didn't doubt it, considering that Reeve seemed very quiet and withdrawn, not inclined to talking much, and Cait Sith could only exert so much control.

Reeve continued listening to his music for a while, bobbing back and forth, continuing with The Way of the Sword for a while as Cid gradually tuned him out, going back to the magazine. Bored with it, he threw it in the rapidly diminishing pile, trying to find one that would interest him.

Finally he pulled out one that had an article on aircrafts and busied himself with that, trying to pass the time. He hated being this bored...he wished he had brought one of his portable game systems or something, or ANYTHING that would keep his interest. He made it a note to make sure this didn't happen again and to be prepared in case he ever got stuck somewhere with no way to escape.

He wasn't sure how much time elapsed before the door opened again, Mikoto holding the same piece of paper that her two predecessors had left with. She left, like they had, without a word, exiting quickly, and the nurse looked down at her clipboard, then looked up with a smile.

"Oh, Quisty! You got it too? That's too bad."

Quistis looked up, trying to stand straight but stumbling for a few moments, catching herself only at the last moment. She paused before speaking, swallowing hard. "Yeah, doesn't make sense...usually only hits Freshmen..."

The nurse shrugged, walking out into the room and helping her. "Well, you know, a flu can hit anyone. Don't worry about it, you'll be better in no time!"

"Thanks, Selphie..."

"No problem!" She smiled at her companion, and the two of them left the room. Cid sighed and leaned back, glancing at Locke, who had apparently stolen another magazine. Once Locke was left, then it would finally be he and Vincent's turn...

Wait...

He nudged Reeve. "Hey catface..."

Reeve didn't pull down his headphones this time, only pressing pause on his walkman before turning to face Cid. "What?"

"When's your turn?"

Reeve shrugged. "I came pretty late, probably after Locke, why?"

Cid sighed and returned his attention back to his magazine. "Never mind..."

Reeve went back to his music, and more time passed at what seemed to be a snails pace. Locke, apparently bored with stealing magazines, moved up to the front desk and began to pilfer small objects from it, including several pens and a box of staples, before Xu finally shooed him away.

Vincent slept on through most of the time, waking once or twice in confusion, but then seeing Cid and remembering where he was, falling back asleep almost immediately thereafter. Cid continued to read through the articles he found in magazines, keeping a mental log of anything that interested him that he may be able to use later in a story, but still mainly bored out of his mind. It had gotten to the point that it was getting difficult for him to focus on ANYthing, and any plotlines he tried to work out in his head rapidly disintegrated as his mind continued to angrily protest just how bored it was.

After a while Reeve began to sing again, very softly and forlornly, although he was still moving along with his music.

"All around me are familiar faces, worn-out places, worn-out faces...bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere..."

The sorrow in his voice caught Cid's attention, something that he had yet to hear from Reeve's throat. It was an entirely different emotion and sound from any other notes he had sung, tinged with such a deep sadness, but even worse, a deep sense that there was no hope, an acceptance for whatever had caused him such misery. "Their tears are filling up their glasses, no expression, no expression...hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow..."

"And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad..." Reeve's voice was just so sad, so quiet. It wasn't an obvious kind of despair, but it was obvious that he felt some familiarity, some identification, with the lyrics he was singing in his soft, sweet voice. 

"That dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had..." 

A smile graced his lips, a small twitch, an obvious sign of emotion, a kind of sad acceptance. "I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, when people run in circles it's a very very...mad world...a mad world..."

Cid could not stop staring at him or listening. There was no question now that the sorrow on Reeve's face and in his voice was not because the song itself was sad. It was almost as if there was something wrong, but he had no idea what it could be or what he had to do about it. He was pinned, as it were, by Reeve's sad voice, by the planitive words, by the simplistic and haunting melody. And he wasn't even sure if Reeve knew he was there...

"Children waiting for the day they feel good...happy birthday, happy birthday..." Reeve's mouth barely moved, but the notes that emerged were so pained, Cid could not believe that he was not crying, not showing his emotion in some other way. The way his voice shook, the way it hesitated for just a few minute seconds, he was sure that he would see Reeve just start crying, but he apparently had greater strength then that. His voice shook the most over the words "happy birthday", and Cid could sense there was some tragedy, some event that made those words so painful to him. "And they feel the way that every child should, sit and listen, sit and listen..."

"Went to school and I was very nervous...no one knew me, no one knew me..." Again, the momentary pauses in his voice, the hesitation, almost as if he had to get a hold of his emotions before he could continue singing. "Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson...look right through me, look right through me..."

Cid glanced at him for a moment, but Reeve's eyes were closed, his ears backed only slightly, his tail still moving slowly along with the music, tip flipping back and forth. He moved almost imperceptibly from side to side, moving along with the rhythm of the music.

He leaned his head to one side, his eyes still closed, and his voice again held the terrible sadness it had before, that misery that came with knowing that there was no hope, no improvement...the horrible acceptance of whatever terrible thing happened, or kept happening. It was so painful that Cid almost could not bear to hear it, as it spoke to him about pain that he himself knew. He could feel himself reflected in Reeve's sad notes, he could hear his sadness, his pain that he projected through his stories, projected just as beautifully through Reeve's voice, simplistic and yet so powerful. "And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad..."

Cid mouthed the words along with Reeve, although he made no noise. The sadness that came with the line that escaped Reeve's throat could never be equalled by any attempt that Cid had, but still, the line spoke so much to him that he felt he had to say something, make some sign that he knew, he understood, or at least, that he was trying. "That dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had..."

"I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, when people run in circles it's a very very...

mad world..." Reeve's voice trailed off for a few moments, fading beautifully before it resurged gently, almost as if remembering. "A mad world..."

He continued moving back and forth, his tail still moving slightly with every other beat, and finally his voice came again, soft and almost whispered. "Mad world...enlarging your world..."

Reeve paused, stopping his movement, then resumed it again, his voice coming once more. "Mad world..."

Apparently there were no more spoken parts to the song, and in a way Cid was sad. He loved hearing Reeve's voice, the way he pronounced things, held notes, how clear and yet how powerful his voice was, despite the fact that at some points he was whispering. He wanted to know more, he wanted to listen carefully, listen to him, to try and learn more, understand more.  
Cid wondered whether or not he should nudge Reeve to ask him about the song, but then decided against it. Whatever it was, it was something personal to Reeve, considering he had never mentioned it to him before, and there was no reason he would tell him now. Besides, he didn't want to interrupt Reeve now, as he seemed so far into the song. Breaking the kind of mental transcendence he had achieved seemed wrong...

He glanced at Edward, who had leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed, probably napping like Vincent was. He had thought that maybe he would have shown some interest in the song, but he was disappointed. 

He did notice, however, that Locke, who had curled up in an available corner, was staring at Reeve with some unidentifiable emotion, which Cid could not tell was either awe or sadness in itself. So he hadn't been the only one who had heard it, the familiar sadness underneath the words.

He glanced to his side, and Vincent still appeared to be asleep, although he noticed that the metal claw that made up his left arm was clenched tightly around the edge of his shirt, and he was almost positive that Reeve's song had reached him in some way.

Cid made a note to ask Reeve what the song was later on, as it's sad, simple melody was entrancing, and returned his attention back to his magazine, not sure what to do in the awkward period following the sad song.

Eventually Quistis and Selphie came out of the door, Quistis walking out with the same piece of paper clutched in one hand. Selphie waved as she left.

"Just follow the instructions on that paper and you'll be fine, Quisty! Don't worry!"

Quistis nodded, swallowing hard again, and left the room quietly. Selphie looked down at her clipboard for a moment.

"Locke?"

Locke moved his head in her direction, breaking the pained stare he was giving Reeve, and eventually stood, walking through the door the others had walked through before him. Cid glanced at Reeve again. Soon it would be his turn...

He knew that Reeve had problems, he knew that when he had first met him, with the conflicting personalities of both Reeve and Cait Sith. However, he had been around Cait Sith and talked to Cait Sith so much that he had almost forgotten about Reeve, who was underneath it all.   
When he thought about it, he actually knew little about Reeve, considering who he was, where he came from, who he knew. He had never thought to ask, never thinking it important, but the song had brought up many questions for him.

There was so much pain in it, so much sadness, that there was no question that it meant something to Reeve, it meant something very deep and very personal. Something must have happened to Reeve a long time ago that would make the song speak so much through him, but Cid did not know what. He wasn't sure whether or not Reeve had been born with Cait Sith, or Cait Sith had appeared at some other time, or if Cait Sith was just a creation of Reeve's, or even if Reeve was a creation of Cait Sith, and he didn't feel comfortable asking. He and Reeve were friends...

He corrected himself. He and Cait Sith were friends.

He had been staring at the same page in the magazine for several minutes without reading anything, his thoughts having distracted him from ever concentrating on the printed words. It didn't really matter to him, and he continued to let himself ruminate on the song and what it meant.

Either way, he and Cait Sith were friends, but they were far from knowing everything about eachother. He hadn't shared a lot of what happened to him with Reeve, and it was obvious that Reeve had done the same. He glanced at Vincent for a moment. He and Vincent had shared several things that had happened to them, important traumas and the like that had influenced how they viewed life currently, but as it was, he did not know any that had affected Reeve or given him the unique outlook he had on life.

He had known enough people to know that there was some event, something that happened in their life that influenced them, that made them who they were. There was always at least one, and depending on the person it could continue from there. He had known people that had dozens of terrible things happen to them, and other people who just had one, but there was always at least one thing that happened, however long ago, some horrible, painful memory, that was always there. There was always something that happened, some sadness, some misery. Depending on the person they'd tell you about it right away, or they'd never tell you about it at all, but it was always there. Everyone had one. Reeve was no exception, but the problem was that Cid did not know what type Reeve was. Would he tell him what had happened, or would he continue to keep it to himself? Cid respected either decision, but he wanted to at least make the effort to find out.

Cid had been happy knowing Reeve as he had before, but the song had revealed depths to Reeve he was not aware of, sadness that he had not known, and now he wanted to know. His mind had taken the crucial step from accepting someone as an acquaintance to making someone your friend, your real, true friend, and he resolved then that he was going to find Reeve at some point and talk to him. Really talk to him, so he could at least explain some of his own pain, and try and understand what it was that managed to make that song so poignant, so sad.

He was sure that Vincent would agree with him, and he made it a point that he would ask Vincent to accompany him when he would talk with him.

All too soon for once, or so it seemed to him, Selphie emerged from the doorway, Locke walking away, holding the same paper the others had been holding and what appeared to be other papers hidden behind it. She glanced down at her clipboard for a moment.

"Reeve?"

Cid nudged Reeve, who jumped and looked around, moving his headphones down. "What?"

"You're next." Cid found his voice lacked the normal playfulness it normally held when he talked with Reeve, and he began to worry that what he had learned through the sad song would affect how he talked to Reeve forever. Angry at himself, he refused to confuse or hurt Reeve by acting differently then he had before, and struggled to get the happier tone back into his voice. "How loud DO y'keep those thin's, catface?"

Reeve smiled at him, no sign of whatever sadness had penetrated his voice before at all on his features. It was almost as if it had never happened. "Yeah yeah, I'll go deaf, heard it aaaaaall before, spazboy. I'll see you guys later, alright?"

"Right." Cid smiled at him weakly before Reeve vanished behind the door, humming to himself, his tail moving back and forth energetically. Cid recognized the notes as the song he had been singing when they had originally came in. The door closed again, and this time Cid was left without even Reeve's music to keep him entertained while he waited.

He sighed and picked up another magazine from the small pile, struggling to interest himself in the contents. Vincent slept on nearby quietly.

Cid smiled wryly to himself as he began reading articles he had skimmed over because he thought they wouldn't interest him. Reeve was quick on the rebound, he knew that much for sure, much like he was, and he was sure that whatever it was that had hurt him, or whatever painful thing had occurred so long ago, wasn't ruling his life currently. It was foolish to think that you could ever forget some of the painful things you had endured before, or had to go through, but Cid belonged to the school of thought that you couldn't let your past rule your life. He had his own share of pain throughout his life, but he didn't want that to constantly ruin his present. He knew a lot of people who didn't think like that, Vincent for one, but personally he believed in living his life as it came to him, in the present, and he had a feeling that Reeve agreed.

Or at least, Cait Sith did.

Time passed so slowly, and Cid could already feel some of the words to the song Reeve had sung escaping his memory. He again made a note to ask Reeve about the song when he had the chance, and tried to focus on the magazine, trying to make the time pass.

It felt like an eternity, but finally Reeve came through the door. Unlike the others, however, he did not have a piece of paper. He wasn't holding anything. He waved to Cid as he walked out, smiling, and Cid wondered just what it was Reeve came here for. It had to be related to the whole Reeve/Cait Sith problem, but he just wasn't sure how. Was it for medicine? Check ups? Something else?

"Vincent?"

Cid nudged Vincent, who woke with a slight start. He was groggy and confused, but Cid managed to pull him up towards the door, and they finally entered the hallway they had seen so many people go through.

Selphie led them down the hallway with quick, bouncy steps, finally stopping in front of one door amidst many. She opened it, gesturing inside. "If you'd just wait in here..."

Cid pulled Vincent inside, and they found a typical doctor's room, with one chair in the corner, the large metal table in the center, and cabinets and drawers filled with various tools. Vincent immediately gravitated towards the center table, crawling on top of it and lying down, falling asleep again, while Cid busied himself by poking through every drawer that wasn't locked. Most of the drawers with anything interesting were kept from his prying hands, but he did manage to amuse himself for a while with a giant jar of cottonballs.

Finally the doctor came after another all-too-long wait, and stared at Cid with disapproval in his brown eyes. He was dressed in white, as most of the people here were, which contrasted against his dark brown skin. His black hair was kept back into three long, thin braided strands, held by colored beads, and he looked at the sleeping Vincent with the look of one who had seen far too many victims of the same. He flipped a page on the clipboard he was carrying, clicking his pen.

"I'm Dr. Seagill, you can call me Kiros, thank you for coming, I think you know the drill." His voice was both bored and tired. "Since you seem to be conscious..." He glanced towards Cid. "How long has he been like this?"

"Um...he said since last night..." Cid scratched the back of his neck. Kiros sighed for a moment, writing something down.

"Well, that's a relief, most of them don't come in for days after they get sick originally. Must be some test of strength or something or machismo or something of that kind. Hmm..." He walked around the table to try and get a look at Vincent, who was slightly curled on one side. He gently grabbed his shoulder and shook Vincent until he came back into conscious, albeit reluctantly. He sat up groggily, still looking pale and sick, although fortunately for him, the nausea seemed to have passed. Kiros put a hand to his forehead for only a few seconds before withdrawing it again.

"Did you eat anything peculiar before you got sick?" Vincent shook his head. "No blood or anything in the vomit?" Vincent shook his head again. "Any cramps or remaining abdominal pain?" Vincent again shook his head. "Feeling sleepy, dizzy, weak, shaky...?" Vincent nodded at that. "Feeling hungry?"

Vincent paused at that question. Kiros finally smiled for once, apparently lightening up slightly. "It's okay to be confused. You do need to eat something, but more importantly, you need to drink. Preferably one of those sports drinks, you've probably lost a lot of minerals and such." Kiros walked to one side, opening a drawer and pulling out a sheet of paper. "Here, this should list things you should avoid and things you should eat and drink."

He turned to Cid. "No doubt your friend has caught the virus that's been going around, basically characterized by a fever, nausea, and sleepiness. Believe me, I've been treating people for it all day. It's going around rather quickly, so I'd advise you to be careful. The best treatment for this is to get a lot of rest, follow the precautions on that list, and try to avoid physical activity for a while."

"What about classes?" Kiros gave the paper to Vincent, who took it with a "mmpf" kind of sound. Cid stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling essentially useless. "I mean, this isn't high school or nothin'."

"I'm aware of that." Kiros continued writing on the clipboard, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I'm sure your teachers will understand, considering at the rate this is going around, probably less then half of any freshmen class will be around."

"Freshmen?"

"Yes, this normally hits Freshmen hardest, although it does sometimes foray into the upperclassman." Kiros gestured at Vincent to get off the table, which he did slowly, almost asleep on his feet. Cid held out his hand and gave Vincent some support, who wobbled back and forth unsteadily. "Just try and sleep, and make sure you drink something at least. If it gets worse, come back and check it up again. It should go away in few days or so." Kiros walked to the door and opened it, and Cid took the hint.

"Alright." Cid nodded, and he led Vincent out of the room. "Thanks."

"No problem. Tell Selphie to bring in the next one." Kiros left the room and walked down the hallway, the opposite direction Cid and Vincent were heading, and the two of them made their way down the hallway.

"Hear that, Vin? It ain't serious or nothin'."

"Mmm."

Cid smiled. "God, you're so #$#@in' out of it."  
Vincent didn't even argue. "Mmm."

"C'mon, y'got t'get some sleep." Cid led him out the door, noting other people having collected in the waiting room while they were in the room, and headed out into the hallway, making the journey back to Vincent's dormroom. 


	20. To Plan

~Author's Note~

Sorry fer da delay. ^_^o I've been workin on Let Me Play. Ooo, suspense! DA PLOT THICKENS! Yes. 

  
They made it back without too much occuring on the way, people apparently deciding to keep their vicious comments or stares to themselves, or perhaps they had some other victims to openly isolate. Either way, Vincent and Cid both decided it would probably be best for their already tarnished reputation if Vincent walked mostly by himself, although several times he nearly ran into stationary objects due to the incredible exhaustion that had come over him.

Vincent fumbled with his key for several minutes before he could finally force his sleepy, shaky body to correctly turn it in the lock, and once inside he immediately headed for his bed, flopping on top of it without bothering to change or get beneath the bunched up covers near the wall.

Cloud, who for once was present, was sitting on his bed and reading, and the only greeting and awknowledgement of their arrival he gave was a disapproving and suspicious glare. Although Cid's original plan had been to stay with Vincent and see if he needed anything, he felt extremly uncomfortable when Cloud was around and decided he'd drop by later.

"Get some sleep, Vin, alright?" He waved to Vincent's prone form, not sure if he could be heard or not. Cloud just continued to stare at him. "I'll tell Hojo what happened."

Vincent twitched one of his golden claws in what Cid hoped was response, and he finally left, closing the door quietly behind him.

He leaned against the door for some time, finding deep reservations within him for leaving Vincent behind in this way. He was sure that Vincent did not mind, but he felt guilty, considering that he was sick and all. But Cloud looked so angry that Cid felt horrible for intruding on whatever he had been doing. Now that the door was closed behind him, it was too late for him to go back in, although he had strengthened his resolve enough to withstand Cloud's eyes. Feeling dissatisfied at his behavior, Cid walked down the hall, his hands deep in his pockets, determined to visit Vincent later to make sure that he would be okay.

He hoped that Reno would catch whatever was going around. He smiled at the thought. That would finally give him some peace and quiet. But as it was, he doubted that he had caught it and was fairly sure he was going to be greeted with some angry obscenities or cruel jibes when he finally reached his dormroom.

He hopped down the stairs for a while, finding his attention already wandering from his current problem to memories of the Talent Show. He smiled to himself at the memory of walking on stage, seeing Vincent sitting in front, staring at him. The adrenaline rush had been incredible, and he almost wished he could do it again just to feel that kind of attention given to him.

#$^#, he still had another paper to write for Tellah's class. He grimaced to himself for a moment. He had completely forgotten. Well, at least he had a plan of action when he would get back to his room. 

He hummed to himself as he walked down the cracked sidewalk, trying to remember where he had put his walkman. He didn't remember putting it in one of his drawers...it wasn't in his pocket. Did he leave it in one of his jackets? He'd have to check-

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Whirling around, panicked and frightened, Cid lifted an arm and knocked away the person's forearm, jumping back a few feet and swiftly feeling in his pocket for his ever-present knife. %#@%, where was it?  
The adrenaline rush that had come with the contact began to fade as he recognized who had tapped him, although he did not get out of his guarded position.

"What th' #$^# do you want?"

Sephiroth's face no longer had the easy-going, superior, calm grace that it held before. Now he looked deathly serious, and he stared at Cid with frightening intensity, so much so that Cid took another step back.

"What happened to Vincent?"

"Jesus #$^#in' christ, you nearly gave me a #$@#in' heart-attack." Cid's voice was laden with hatred and anger, emotions that had been building within him since Sephiroth's cryptic warning two days earlier. A nasty tone of sarcasm worked it's way into his voice. "#^%@, don't you already know anyway?"

Sephiroth kept his eyes narrowed and his face under control as he took a step towards Cid, his hands clasped behind his back. "I just need information that you can give me. Now please co-operate with me."

"Or what, you silver-haired mother#$^#?" Cid took a step back for Sephiroth's step forward. His tone was disbelieving and still very angry. "What th' #$&# could y'do t'me?"

"As I may have stated before, I know things." Sephiroth took another step forward, and the grim seriousness of his tone was getting more disturbing by the moment. "I know many things about you, things that you'd rather not let other people know. Things that could make you more reviled, outcast, rejected by the present student body then you are now."

Cid looked around, finding no one nearby at the moment, but decided against asking exactly what it was that Sephiroth knew. "If you #%^#in' know everythin', then why don't y'know what happened t'Vin?"

Sephiroth just stared at him and took another step forward. Cid responded with another step back, still feeling frantically around in his pockets for his knife. This prompted a slow shake of the silver-haired man's head.

"You left your knife on your dresser this morning. Very unlike you." Cid's eyes widened. "Now, what happened to Vincent?"

"He's #$#^in' sick, that's all. Jesus." Cid took another step back, frightened by Sephiroth's statement, but desperatly trying to disprove it in his mind be trying to remember putting it in his backpack or some other place. "$%&#in' everyone's gettin' sick lately."

Sephiroth stared at him for a while, then finally turned, his hair following his movements with almost exaggerated slowness. "Thank you for your co-operation, Highwind."

"Why? Why th' #$&# did you want t'know, anyway?" Cid, emboldened by what he believed to be Sephiroth's retreat, began moving forward. "And what th' @#%^ was th' deal with that Weapons #&#%? Are they goin' t'attack us or what?"

Sephiroth stopped, prompting the same action in Cid, and turned only slightly to regard him with cold, controlling eyes. "I got the information I required, and now I'm going to leave."

"Not without some #$#^in' answers!" Cid reached a hand out to grab Sephiroth's arm, but the silver-haired man spun before he could reach him, his hand knocking away Cid's in much the same way that Cid had knocked his away before.

Sephiroth's tone was dangerous, and Cid backed away slowly, not sure of what he could be capable of. "I got what I wanted, and that is the only transaction we will have."

With that, Sephiroth turned and began walking away again, trenchcoat flaring behind him. Cid watched him leave with mixed emotions, from relief from not being injured, to anger at recieving no answers, to frustration at how Sephiroth had just manipulated information out of him, and worry for what Sephiroth intended to do to Vincent with the information he had just acquired.

Cid narrowed his eyes, watching the receding back of Sephiroth quickly vanish. He wasn't about to let that mother#^@$er do anything to Vincent. Breaking into an awkward, limping sprint, Cid headed back for Vincent's dorm, the same direction that Sephiroth had just disappeared into.

~~~

He knocked on the door, rolling on his heels back and forth out of worry and nervousness. It took a few minutes but finally the door opened slightly, the tired visage of Vincent staring out at him.

"Did you forget something...?" Vincent's soft voice was almost inaudible, rough and cracked. He stared at Cid with tired eyes that tried to convey confusion.

"#$^@ Vin, thank god you're okay." Cid looked down the hallway, making sure that he hadn't been pursued or followed. "Did that #^#$-head Seph show up?"

Vincent paused, slowly decoding what Cid had said, leaning against the doorframe as he did so. Eventually his flesh hand worked it's way underneath the sweat-clumped strands of black hair as Vincent closed his eyes, shaking his head back and forth. "No...no, I don't think so, why?"

"#$^#, thank #^#^in' god." Cid brushed a hand across his own forehead in relief before leaning against the doorframe much in the same way Vincent was, gesturing earnestly and speaking in low tones. "Listen, that freaky #$#^ jumped me while I was walkin' and wanted t'know what was wrong with you. I asked him why he didn't know himself, but he didn't answer me! Freaky #$%&er. Anyway, I told him you were sick-"

Vincent interrupted him, startling Cid into silence. He stared at him with tired, half-closed eyes. "I feel kind of dizzy..." He vanished from the doorway. "Come in and finish, I need to sit down for a little while..."

Cid took the invitation readily, closing the door behind him warily after one last glance down the hallway. When he returned his attention to the room, Vincent had already found his bed again, propping himself up against the wall, leaning his head back with his metal claw resting against his forehead. Fortunately, Cloud did not seem to be present, which struck Cid as odd. He was here only a few minutes ago...where could he have gone?

"Strife's taking a shower..." Vincent apparently sensed his confusion and gestured clumsily towards the chair at his desk, his eyes closed. Cid sat down quickly, leaning his arms against the backrest. "Now, what happened?"

"'Kay, that freaky $&%#er Seph came up behind me on th' sidewalk." Cid slowed and softened his words, guessing that Vincent had a rather painful headache. "He wanted t'know what happened t'you. Weird 'cause he says he knows everythin'. I knew he was full of #$#@. Anyway, I wanted t'know why, but he wouldn't tell me anythin'. Dodgy #$^#%@^. He said that if I didn't tell 'im, he'd tell th' whole school my 'dirty secrets' or some #$^# like that. So I told him what happened and then he jus' left. Didn't answer any questions about th' #$^# Weapons or anythin'. God#^#@ mother#$^@er."

Cid looked at Vincent, who remained in the same position he had when Cid had originally come in. "Got all that, Vin?"

Vincent remained as he was, causing Cid to get up and lean on his bed, shaking him softly. "Vin? Yo, Vin?"

Vincent woke slowly, stared at Cid with some confusion, then shook his head back and forth. "Oh...I'm sorry, Highwind, I...I just can't stay awake for more then a few minutes...I'm afraid I fell asleep while you were talking..."

"Eh, don't worry about it. Basically Seph might drop by at some point, so be careful, alright?"

Vincent nodded slowly and almost painfully, and Cid got up from where he had been kneeling on the bed, heading for the door. "Sorry t'bug you again. Get some sleep, alright?"

Vincent nodded and slowly slid down the wall, eventually falling on one side and collapsing back into sleep immediately. Cid closed the door behind him slowly, looking back and forth down the hallway again. No sign of Sephiroth, although that didn't make him feel better. Still feeling deeply worried and concerned, he walked away from Vincent's room, not sure exactly what plans Sephiroth may have had for Vincent, but almost positive that they were not good.

~~~

That night both he and Reeve decided to go the dining hall together, still wary of the supposed attacks. Frighteningly enough, Sephiroth had been correct in the location of Cid's knife, which disconcerted him greatly, and he shoved it deep into his pocket quickly, trying not to think about it.

The two of them were sitting in a booth near the corner, Cid picking ineffectually at his food while Reeve ate voraciously, noting Cid's lack of appetite with a slight measure of concern.

"So Seph showed up again?"

"Yeah...#$&#, I shouldn't've told him anythin'..." Cid tipped over an upstanding carrot with his fork. "#%&#, I feel so $%&#in' stupid..."

"It's not your fault." Reeve gestured with a spoon. "It's not like he really gave you much of a choice, you know."

"I guess...#$^#, what th' #$%@ could he want with Vin? It doesn't make any #&#@in' sense..." Cid stabbed the fallen carrot and watched it stick to his rising fork before brushing it off with one lazy finger. "Why is he #$^#in' with us?"

"I don't know." Reeve shrugged, taking a sip from his glass. "Maybe he wants Vince."

"What d'you mean?" Cid looked up from his uninteresting plate and stared at Reeve, who was toying with a napkin. Reeve glanced at him then back to the napkin several times rapidly, shrugging once.

"Well, I don't know. He could be after Vince, you know. Maybe he thinks he's hot or something, I don't know." Reeve sounded almost as if he expected Cid to be angry at such a suggestion. He was disappointed in this respect.

"Y'think he's after Vin that way?" Cid stared at Reeve, then back down at his plate for a few moments, thinking hard. That would make the most sense, considering. Perhaps Sephiroth was interested in Vincent romantically or otherwise, and wanted to find some time alone with him...but in order for that to work out to his satisfaction, he would have to get rid of Cid first, which would involve breaking them up somehow...perhaps with an argument...

Or the threat of the Weapons...

If indeed this was what Sephiroth was planning, then that explained the motivations between giving he and Vincent separate times for the attacks, giving them something that he would have assumed they would have argued about, not expecting them to only read it as a mistruth. They must have gone against his assumptions in this way. Vincent getting sick would have thrown off whatever plans that Sephiroth had, which would explain why he wanted to know what had happened from him, and he had logically come to Cid knowing that he would be the most likely to know...

If he was truly that interested in Vincent, that would explain why he was following and stalking the two, wanting to find the perfect time and opportunity to catch Vincent alone, without the protection of Cid. He must have viewed him as a threat, thus wanting to isolate him from Vincent in any way possible...

"Spazboy? Hello? Cid? Yoo hoo?" Reeve waved a hand in front of Cid's eyes, jerking him back to reality. "Jeez, you just zoned out there for a bit."

"#%&#, y'don't think he wants to..." Cid was now alarmed by this new suggestion and found that it made more sense with each passing moment. "#$^@, no wonder he wanted t'get him alone...$^@%!"

"Woah woah, I think you're jumping to conclusions here." Reeve pointed at him with the spoon again. "We don't know what Seph wants. But I do agree that I don't think it's a good idea to leave Vince alone with him."

"@#$^..." Cid clenched his hand in a fist, anger rising through him at the thought of Sephiroth just taking advantage of Vincent, of stalking and frightening them this way just to get close to him. The thought of it was enough to make his arm tremble. How dare he do something like that...

Reeve tapped him again, breaking him out of his angry reverie. "We don't know anything for sure yet. Vincent's sick and in his room. He's safe there, so don't worry."

"I guess..." Cid still felt deep tinges of anger and worry, hideous visions of Sephiroth breaking through the door and grabbing Vincent running through his mind, each making him increasingly more and more angry. "I don't #$#%in' like this at all..."

"You could register a complaint." Reeve looked at the ceiling, munching on something thoughtfully. "Hmmm...but you said Seph's got some dirt on you, so that's not good...but still, he shouldn't be able to get away with something like this..."

"#$^#, I don't have a #$%^in' clue what t'do here...#$^@..."

Reeve turned back to side, jabbing him with his spoon to awaken him from his latest daydream. "Well, I do know one thing for sure. Vincent's pretty hungry by now. We should bring him something."

"What can he eat?" Cid took the statement as an indication that their meal was over and stood, finding himself correct as Reeve followed him. "He's pretty sick..."

"My mom always told me that Saltines and 7-Up were the way to go for this kind of thing." Reeve held a hand up and looked as if he were dispensing some kind of universal wisdom. He smiled at Cid, trying to break him out of the intense and serious state he had worked himself into. "C'mon, lighten up. We can pick some up for him at the corner store and you can see for yourself he's fine."

"#^#&...I guess so..." The two of them excited the dining hall, walking out into the dim, cool night air. Cid brushed a hand through his short hair slightly nervously, ending by scratching the back of his neck. Free of the building, he dug a cigarette out of the pack he held on the band of his goggles and lit it, breathing in deeply and exhaling nervously out into the night air. Reeve walked with him quietly, watching him for a few minutes before speaking in a soft, sincere tone, very unlike that of Cait Sith, and Cid was sure that the Reeve persona had decided to speak to him.

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

Cid sighed deeply, taking another drag before speaking, keeping his eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of him. "$^@#, I just don't want him hurt or nothin'...I got th' #%^#in' #%^# beat out of me 'cause of him...I just don't want nothin' like that t'happen t'him..."

He glanced at Reeve, noticing that he was carrying himself in an entirely different fashion then usual. His ears were backed just slightly, and his tail was wrapped around one of his legs. His green eyes were also focused on the sidewalk in front of him, and considering the vast amount of black that he wore, he almost seemed to fade away into the night.

"I know what you feel..." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes in a short moment of frustration. "How you feel...Sephiroth has no good planned for him, I know that much...if he does get his hands with...on him, no good is come ou...no good will come of it..." Fortunately, Reeve was apparently in control of himself enough to forgo punishing himself for his mistakes in speaking.

"Yeah...#$^#..." Cid breathed another cloud of smoke into the air. "#$^@...I wish there was someway I knew he was safe...why th' #$^# does this $%@# always #$^@in' happen t'him..."

He felt Reeve's thin fingers touch his shoulder softly for a moment. "I know you're worried to...about him. It's okay."

"Ah #$^#, catface..." Cid's voice dropped in volume as well, and it matched Reeve's closely for sincerity. "He's one of my best #$^#in' friends...#$^#, one of th' only #$^@in' friends I've had for #$^#in' ages...#$^#, I don't know what I'd do if somethin' #$^#in' happened t'him...#$^#...jus' thinkin' about that #$^#@ Seph doin' somethin' t'him...!" He clenched a fist for a moment before sighing again. "#%^#, it jus'...makes me so #$#@in' angry..."

"Don't worry." Reeve patted his shoulder for a moment. "Nothing is hap...nothing will happen to him. I won't let anything happen to you guys."

Cid paused, taking another deep breath and letting the smoke dissipate through his nostrils. He turned towards Reeve, to see the same inexorable sadness that had shone through his voice in the waiting room present on his face, in the sad green eyes that stared back at him. He was surprised to see that sadness and longing again, having forgotten exactly how it looked. He remembered that it existed, but to see it again when he fully expected that one moment of weakness for Reeve to be the last was a surprise, and Cid could feel his heart jump again at the look of such sorrow, such sadness. Such despondency...

"Reeve...?"

Reeve shook his head softly, his ears slowly and haltingly making their way back into an upright position, having been backed completely against his head. He smiled in a way that only served to exemplify what had been present on his face before. "You...you both mean a lot to me. To Cait Sith too..."

"You have Moog though, right...?"

Reeve looked up, another sad smile on his face, staring up at the stars blinking through the night sky. "Moog...yes...I've always known him...him and only him...but you two..." He turned back to Cid, who was staring at him, unaware that a similiar lost and somewhat sad expression was present on his features. "You came to me...you've been some of the only...real people I've ever known..."

"You're our friend, Reeve." Cid reached out and touched Reeve's shoulder for a moment, not sure of what else to do or say. He feared that Reeve was drifting away somehow and that he needed some kind of physical reassurance that Cid was there. Reeve reached up and took Cid's hand slowly, moving it away from his shoulder and letting it go quietly. Thin clawtips brushed against Cid's hand as it drifted back to his side.

Cid spoke again, his voice almost drifting into the realm of whispers. "We'll always be your friend."

"I know...that's what's important." Reeve smiled at him softly again. "Sometimes it's constan...it's hard to believe for me. You're some of the only friends I've ever had. That's why I know what...how you feel. I don't want to lose you either, and I know that Vincent feels the same way."

The two of them stared at eachother for a few moments as they walked along, a silence slowly building before Reeve straightened from his slouching posture, his ears following his motion, and he smiled at Cid with the same customary energy that he had come to expect from him. "But I'm sure Vince is fine. Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll be okay."

Cid brushed his hand through his hair again, deep and confused emotions rising within him. He breathed another cloud of smoke through the air. "I know, but #$^#...I'm still so #$^#in' worried about him...Jesus, I don't want to lose someone again..."

Cid regretted his statement immediately after saying it, knowing that it would prompt some awkward questions into what or who he had been speaking about, but Reeve didn't say anything, only staring down at the sidewalk as the two continued walking. Cid was thankful but also slightly confused. Why didn't Reeve ask him anything about it? Maybe he didn't hear him...

"I know what you mean, but don't worry." The brighter tone worked it's way back into his voice, and he opened the door to the store, shocking Cid in realizing just how far the two had walked. "It'll be okay. He'll be fine."

"I guess so..." Although Cid had made a mental note before to talk with Reeve more, he hadn't been expecting a conversation like this, especially at this time. Although he was interested by the brief glimpse he got of the true Reeve's personality, it only made him more confused then he was before. Considering he had a great deal of things on his mind, mainly concerning Vincent and Sephiroth but to a lesser extent Hojo and Tellah, he didn't want to deal with something this complicated as well, and decided he would back away from the previous topic, hoping to get back to less consequential banter that would lessen the load building on his mind. 

He noted the store's clerk staring at him suspiciously as he and Reeve entered, and noted Reeve getting an especially long look. Reeve was not happy about this, although the evidence of this flickered across his face for only a few moments, although that was enough for Cid to notice it.

"Now where would they keep that #$^#..." Cid wandered to the back, which was mainly populated with large cartons of soda, thus automatically delegating the Saltines to Reeve, who nodded and smiled at Cid, giving a thumbs-up.

"Right, I'll get on Saltine duty!"

As Cid made his way to the back, he was struck by the thought that perhaps Reeve had been as incomfortable as he with the previous conversation, and had backed away from it as well, which would explain why their behavior changed at the same time. 

Finding a large bottle of 7-Up, he took it up to find Reeve lingering near the crackers, apparently uncomfortable with going up until Cid joined him. The two of them headed up, and Cid payed for the purchases. The clerk continued to eye Reeve suspicously, which caused the felinoid youth to back his ears almost completely backwards, causing them to meld into his hair. Cid was getting more and more aggravated by the clerk's behavior, and glared to try and get this across. This didn't change the clerk's expression at all.

Finally he spoke. "What's the deal with him?"

Cid narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you ask him yourself, you #$^#er?"

The two of them exchanged glares while Reeve, trying to avoid the conflict, collected the two items that had been purchased, hoping the stand-off would end at that point.

The clerk decided to leave it at that, although his disapproving glance showed that he would have liked to continue the argument, and he continued to glare at the two even as they left the store.

Reeve tucked the box of Saltines under his arm as Cid held the bottle by it's cap, swinging it back and forth slowly. As soon as the door to the store closed, Reeve shrugged.

"He called me a freak, you know." He remarked casually to the night air, prompting a glance from Cid.

"I didn't hear anythin'..."

"Heh, these things aren't just for show." Reeve rubbed the end of one of his ears between his two fingers, shrugging again. "I can hear lots of stuff I shouldn't."

Cid turned to head back to the store, but Reeve grabbed his arm, halting his progress. "No, don't. It's not worth it."

Cid narrowed his eyes, standing for a moment, before finally rejoining Reeve, muttering under his breath.

"#$^#in' $^@hole..."

Reeve shrugged again, his tail waving slightly behind him. "You get used to it."

"Doesn't make him any less of a #$^hole tho'." Cid found one of his larger pockets and shoved the bottle inside. Once his hands were free, he jammed them into his two free pockets. "#%@#, now I'm angry all over again."

"Don't worry about it." Reeve patted his shoulder for a moment, trying to calm Cid down. "It's not that big of a deal, and it really isn't somethin' to get worked up over. Just try and relax."

Cid made an angry noise, but eventually let the topic drop, and the two of them continued on their way. The time was spent with idle banter and chitchat, most of which meant little to nothing, but in a way this kind of conversation was something of a relief, as it was obvious that both of them had had their fill of emotions and all they entailed recently.

As they approached Vincent's closed door, Cid could not help but once again voice his worries out loud. "I hope he's alright..."

"He'll be fine." Reeve exaggerated his tone, rolling his eyes, as he leaned near the door. "Don't worry so much about it."

Cid knocked on the door, digging out the bottle of 7-Up from his pocket after doing so. It had gone somewhat flat from being banged against his leg during the walk, but he heard somewhere that was supposed to help anyway. At least he hoped it would.

Much to Cid and Reeve's surprise, Cloud answered the door, glaring at them angrily for interrupting whatever it as he was doing. Startled that Cloud was home at all, much less the one to answer the door, Cid stood for several seconds trying to regain his composure. Before he could speak, however, Cloud cut him off.

"If you're looking for Vincent, he isn't here."

Reeve took the reins of the conversation from the confused and bewildered Cid. "Isn't here? Where did he go?"

"I don't know." Cloud seemed resentful at being questioned. "He left earlier."

"With who?" Cid finally managed to galvanize himself into speech, causing Cloud's disapproving gaze to fall back on him.

"I don't know. Someone knocked, he answered the door, and then he just left. Thought he went out with you. Guess I was wrong."

Cid and Reeve stared at eachother for several moments before Cloud, without even saying any sort of farewell, shut the door.

"#$^#! Cid fairly shouted, punching a nearby wall. "#$^#!"

"Okay, calm down." Reeve put his hands on his shoulders, stopping Cid's other fist from impact. "We don't know for sure what happened yet."

"I #^&$in' know what th' #$^#in' #$#% happened! That #$^#er Sephiroth dragged him out of his room! #$#%, I don't even know where he went!" Cid snarled to himself and struggled free from Reeve's grasp, punching the wall with more force then previously. Reeve, worried and concerned himself, grabbed Cid's sleeve, dragging him towards the stairwell. Although Cid's worry manifested itself in fury, Reeve's was visible in nervous, uncontrolled energy.

"C'mon, not here, not here! Do that outside! We've got to stay calm and think, alright? We've got to keep cool here."

"#&#$!" Cid allowed himself to be pulled down the stairwell, trembling with fury. As someone passed by him on the stairwell, he reached out and grabbed them with frightening intensity, pulling them close. "Did you see Vin pass by here?"

The young man brushed off Cid's hands cooly, staring at him with quiet grace behind a face framed with long black hair. In the center of his forehead rested an enigmatic dot. Cid struggled to recall and finally remembered seeing the same man introducing himself as their RA. What was his name again...? Tseng, he believed. "Vincent Valentine?"

"That's right." Cid was trembling with nervous energy, and he noted that Reeve was walking in small circles behind him. The young man brushed some hair from his face and crossed his arms, staring at the two of them levelly.

"Well, I do believe I saw him earlier today...I thought he was sick, but apparently he wasn't as sick as I had thought, unlike everyone else in this dorm." The last statement was mumbled. "He left with someone else a few hours ago."

"$#&#!" Cid shouted, not caring that the RA was present, and then turned back to him again, panicked. "What did he look like? Who was he?"

Tseng was somewhat startled by the sudden outburst, but kept his calm admirably. He brushed non-present dust off his shirt for a moment before responding. "I believe it was Sephiroth. I'm not sure what he would want with a Freshmen, however. He's normally too busy for such things..."

"#$^$! @#$^, @#%@, @#%#!" Cid cursed angrily before taking off down the stairs at a headlong run, leaving Reeve still walking in nervous circles on the stairwell. Noting Cid's rapid departure, Reeve turned to Tseng and mumbled an awkward apology before running after Cid, calling out uselessly for him to slow down.

Finding the behaviour strange and somewhat worrisome, Tseng considered for a moment, then headed down to the bottom floor, hoping to find Rude and to warn him to keep his eyes open tonight. Something strange was going on. 


	21. Suspicions, Cubes

Author's Note ~ Heh, sorry fer da long delay. ^_^o I rediscovered my deep and abiding love fer...::fanfare:: The Road to El Dorado! Or rather, Road to El Dorado slash. Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee. Ya can find my little shrine ta it at http://www.ashido.com/anyregrets.html. Yeah. ANYWAY this is a bit shorter then I liked, but it's been a while, so...  
Saddest thing is I've been workin on this thing fer like, a year now and almost two weeks have gone by fer them. ^_^o ARGH. I need ta speed things up or SOMEthing. 

  
"Why did I ever agree to this..."

Vincent had his face pressed into his crossed arms, feeling nauseous and generally unhappy, his headache increasing in intensity to match the loud voices of others in the room. "I feel sick..."

"Believe me, I am aware of that. I've been aware of it for quite some time." The silken voice from across the table continued to grate on him in some strange way. The pain in his back was present again, directly over his shoulderblades, but he refused to sit up or make any attempt to ease the pain he was sure he was causing himself. "But that's not why I brought you here."

"I want to go to sleep..." Vincent mumbled sulkily, feeling more and more disoriented as minutes passed. He dared not look up in fear that the spinning in his head would worsen. "Why _did_ you bring me here anyway..."

"I know something that I'm fairly sure would interested you." He was not sure what Sephiroth was doing on his side of the table but he was not touching him in any way, which was good. Vincent was not in the mood to be touched. His claw twitched softly underneath the pressure of his head and he sighed deeply, wishing his stomach would settle down and stop causing him so much pain.

"Why did you take me HERE...?" Vincent managed to glance out from the sanctuary of his arms and his hair, but he only caught flashing glimpses of Sephiroth's trenchcoat and momentary glints of his hair. He settled back down quickly, feeling even worse. "It's loud..."

The place that Sephiroth had taken him to was a common hang-out for those at the College who had finished whatever work they had done and wanted to unwind. It was technically a deli, or at least that was what the sign outside proclaimed, but they served other food as well. It had a very homey, inviting atmosphere with warm colors, several pinball machines and a jukebox, none of which were helping Vincent's headache in the least. It was popular mainly because the establishment had long since gotten used to the college students coming and being rowdy, so it was not as frowned upon as it was in other restaurants and stores nearby.

That and the food was really good.

The two of them were situated in a booth near the corner, Vincent huddling close to the wall while Sephiroth sat across from him. Neither of them had ordered anything, and Vincent severely doubted anything would be ordered in the future. That wasn't why he had been brought here.

Vincent could not recall the trip to the deli, but he was sure there had to be one. His memory was getting foggy lately and he wasn't sure when something happened or for how long.

"Oh, that. It's a good cover in case someone would hear us. The information is confidential, you see."

"Then tell me, I want to go to sleep..." Vincent would have drifted off in the deli itself if there hadn't been so much noise. As it was he moved his arms above his head, pressing his forehead into the table, trying to block out more of the noise and soothe the burning pain.

"I know that you're sick, but I'd just like to warn you." Sephiroth paused, as if waiting for Vincent to say something, but then continued. "It's about your friend Cid."

Again he waited for a response, but he didn't get any. All of Vincent's efforts were focused into remembering what Sephiroth was saying, not vomiting, the pain in his head, and the constant sensation of spinning. He repeatedly felt the ground drop from underneath him, and despite what many would believe, he was not getting used to it.

Sephiroth continued, his voice emphasizing strange words. "It's actually not only about Cid, but about your friend Reeve as well. I have been watching them, as you may have guessed, and I know something interesting about them."

"Get a life..." Vincent mumbled darkly from underneath his arms, feeling hostile and angry now that his sickness was taking stronger hold. He did not want to deal with this at the moment and he did not have any patience for Sephiroth's double-talk.

Sephiroth either did not hear him or did not think Vincent's comment was worth a response. Instead he leaned forward, resting his head on his hands, watching Vincent with a calculatingly amused look. The manner around him made it seem as if he had practiced giving this speech, which was somewhat unnerving...at least that would explain why he hadn't responded to Vincent's comment.

"You saw them at the Talent Show." It wasn't a question, rhetorical or otherwise. "And they played that song together in a way of apologizing to you."

Vincent stared at him angrily, wishing he could find words to express his discomfort and intense desire to be anywhere else then where he was at the moment. His frustration and disgust were building steadily, but he could not find the appropriate words and eventually remained quietly in the sanctum of his enfolded arms.

"I already know that." The only words that would come. Sephiroth again, ignored him, still staring with that bizarre, almost predatory air.

"Well, where have they been lately? Have you ever wondered what happens while you're gone? What they do when it's just them..."

At this point Vincent's patience had already worn thin and he began to slide off the table, preparing himself to walk back to his dorm...somehow. 

"I'm going back to sleep." He mumbled, almost positive that Sephiroth would be unable to hear him over the increasingly irritating din around him. "Stop stalking me."

"Aren't you the least bit interested?" Sephiroth slid out of his own seat, smoothly moving to Vincent's side and lifting him out of the chair, prompting the dark-haired youth to pull away from angrily and sharply. This was a mistake as Vincent immediately collapsed back into his seat afterwards, moaning and holding his head. Sephiroth again, took this in stride as he stood by where Vincent was now huddled, blocking his only exit. "Doesn't it bother you?"

Vincent was still struggling to keep from throwing up as Sephiroth continued speaking. The pain in his head had increased exponentially as he had stood and now it was, very slowly, beginning to fade. However, almost as if to compensate for the slow relief of his headache, his stomach began to churn and fight against him as well. Unable to say anything in fear of provoking his already volatile body, he only pressed his head back to the table miserably, breathing deeply.

"Doesn't it bother you..." He couldn't see him exactly, but he could tell from the strangely metallic drifting noise on the table and the increase in the volume of Sephiroth's speech that he was leaning in close towards him. "That perhaps Cid and Reeve are a bit more then friends?"

Vincent remained with his head pressed into the table, struggling to ignore Sephiroth and focus only on his body, but the seed of doubt had already taken root. More then friends...?

Sephiroth apparently sensed something in his behavior change as he continued on, his voice only getting steadily more ingratiating and manipulative. "Can you see it...? Instead of being with you, they are now with eachother. Does it surprise you? They are rather good friends, aren't they? And they have walked back with eachother many a time...what happens, Vincent? What do you think...happens?"

He had to breathe, he had to focus on the table, he had to keep his stomach under control and not give in. This could not be possible.

How on earth had he got here? _How_ had he _got_ _here_? He didn't remember walking, and now he was here, in this loud and painful place, with a stalker who told him that his best friend was cheating on him.

"Best friends don't cheat." His mind corrected him. But still...

Although normally he would have felt sad for some period at losing a friend and then moved on, now he only felt anger. A deep anger directed at Reeve for taking his friend like this. He did not even have any evidence of any transgressions or changes in Cid's behavior, but already he was worried. Only the thought had to be presented, and Vincent had taken it in completely. 

What was he going to do? He liked Reeve, he knew that...he knew that, right? Reeve and Vincent were friends, Reeve wouldn't do that to him...he couldn't...not after everything they had done. There had to be something else...

It had to be nothing. Sephiroth had to be lying. He had to forget everything he said, he had to ignore this now strong jealousy within him, rising against the felinoid youth for no real true reason. 

No evidence, no condemning testimony excepting Sephiroth, and already he was jealous.

Jealous? Why on earth would he be jealous?

"You see what I mean..." The voice near him again, apparently watching him close enough to sense the changes and patterns in his thought. Vincent struggled again to ignore him, to focus on anything but him and what he was saying. "I just thought I would warn you...you should be careful. After all, they may betray you in some way and I don't want that to happen."

Vincent's voice was small and tired. "I feel sick."

He could feel Sephiroth's hands around his upper arm, strong and unyielding as he drew him out of his closed ball. "I know you do. Let's go back now."

~~~

"I #$^# up, catface. I jus' #$#%ed up."

Cid was slumped across a small, short table in Reeve's room, completely smashed. At the moment he had his head resting on his arms and he was staring at the blurring figure of his friend across the table. Reeve was returning the stare, his ears backed, his legs crossed, as he had been for the last few minutes as Cid rambled on almost incoherently. It was only when he had reached his final words that Reeve finally decided to speak up.

"No you didn't. You had no idea that would happen." Reeve shrugged helplessly, not knowing what he should do. He had never had to deal with someone who was drunk _and_ depressed before and he had no idea how to make Cid feel better. 

As it was he had a good reason to feel depressed. 

"We've just got to trust Vinnie to not do something stupid or anything."

That wasn't reassuring to either of them and Cid pounded a fist on the table somewhat clumsily, almost spilling a half-empty bottle near the edge. "$%&# that, #$^# that $#^#, we got to go find 'em or somethin', got to make sure he's okay..."

Reeve sighed, again feeling rather trapped and helpless in his current situation. How was he supposed to react? He didn't know what to say or what to do. He didn't know Cid that well and he especially did not know Cid drunk. His behavior was confusing and he couldn't find any patterns to follow. He was deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing, but he was even more afraid of saying nothing.

"We checked everywhere, remember? No one's seen him, no one knows where they went. If Seph can really disappear as easy as he makes it look, then they could be anywhere. There's nothing we can do-"

"#$^#!" Cid shouted abruptly, veritably punching the desk as he sat up, staring at Reeve angrily. "#&#$!"

Reeve held up his hands, desperatly trying to placate him, all the while remembering every story and every newscast or TV show that involved drunken people beating those they normally loved. He could feel the fur on his tail rising at the thought and he struggled against the feeling. Cid was his friend, he would never do something like that. He knew he wouldn't...he had to be calm, had to keep Cid calm until...

"Calm down, calm down. I'm sure Vinnie's fine. Really...he looks like he can take care of himself. He could just crunch him to death with that claw or something." Reeve made a comical face, hoping to ease the tension in the room, but Cid had already slumped back down into a depressed heap, refusing to look up. "Really, don't work yourself up over it. There's nothing we can do but trust Vin at this point."

"Mother#$^%er..." Cid mumbled under his breath. Reeve took this as an opportunity to move the half-empty bottle to one side, not wanting it to spill on his carpet. Not only would that be awkward to explain to Moog when he came back, but it would also be potentially incriminating. 

He noticed as he moved it the Saltines and bottle of soda they had originally intended to give to Vincent. He was pretty sure at this point Cid had forgotten about it, so he made a mental note to deliver them later.

"Just try and relax, alright?" Reeve sighed softly, his eyes flicking to the TV in the corner. It was on, but neither of them were paying attention. He had hoped when he came in originally it would help dissipate any anger or worry remaining, but it did not work as well as he had hoped. Did not work at all, actually. "You can't focus on this all night, it'll drive you nuts."

"#$^#in..." Cid turned his head towards the television lazily, still slumped across the short table. "#$&#in' don' matter now...#$^#, I should'a been there or somethin'..."

"C'mon, there's nothin you could've done-"

Cid turned on Reeve sharply with another harsh blow to the table, startling him into silence. "Mother#$^$#, no, there HAD to be somethin' I could'a done, I'm not #$%#in' powerless, god#$^# IT!"

Reeve glanced at his tail for only a second to find that all the fur on it had risen, returning his attention back to Cid as he tried to keep his voice calm. "I didn't say that, I didn't mean it like that, honest. You've got to calm down..."

"&#####$%..." Cid let the obscenity linger for a moment before turning back towards the television. "@#@^...this IS all my fault..."

"No it isn't." Reeve mentally tried to count how many times this conversation, or a variant of it, had occured while Cid had been inebriated and found that it was too many to recall. "It'll be fine, alright? We can go check on him tomorrow, and I'm sure he'll be okay. Heck, he might even be feeling better then he was today."

Cid mumbled something incomprehensible but he did not argue with Reeve, who was thankful that the conversation had finally stopped going in circles. He brushed down some of the fur on his tail self-consciously, feeling rather embarrassed that it had gotten out of his control.

A good deal of time went by, both watching the television, before the silence was broken.

"What time is it?" The blonde youth finally asked, and Reeve jerked in surprise, not prepared for the sudden question. He forced his ears upwards, looking for the clock that was usually present.

"Um...hold on..." Reeve stood, making his way to his bed. Finding his alarm clock on the bedstand, he looked at it for a few seconds before glancing back at his friend. Cid remained in the same position he had been in for what seemed like hours, slumped across the table. "It's late...really late. You should probably go back before they lock your dorm up or something..."

"#$^#..." Cid did manage to push himself up, stumbling for a few minutes before having to lean against a wall, a hand to his head. "#$#^, shouldn't'a stood up so fast...$#$^..."

"You okay?" Reeve made his way over to him, finding Cid trying to wave him off in a very general way with his entire arm. "You shouldn't have..."

He felt awkward talking about it. Cid finally moved away from the wall, a bit clumsily and slowly, making his way across the small room with only a few stubbed toes and curses. He finally stopped at the door, leaning against it heavily before he turned towards Reeve, blinking at him for a moment.

"C'mon...I'm not goin' alone, th' #$^#in' Weapons might still be around..."

"Right." Reeve nodded, having already guessed that he would accompany him, and moved to open the door that Cid seemed to be having problems with. 

Cid nearly fell out into the hallway after it was opened and Reeve was quick behind him, shutting the door and grabbing him before he could pitch over entirely. Cid reacted in an extremly loose and floppy way, recoiling sharply to Reeve's rather gentle pull and nearly knocking both of them over, before finally finding his feet and standing by himself. Reeve watched him with concern, glad that Cid had asked, albeit indirectly, for him to come. 

Eventually the two made their way out, walking across the empty sidewalks of the warm night. Cid looked back and forth constantly, making no secret of searching for his missing dark-haired friend. Reeve was at his side, catching him when he threatened to fall and supporting him when Cid felt like the world was disappearing. It was an ardous and strange trip back to Cid's dorm, but in the end it was fairly uneventful, and Reeve eventually bade him farewell at his door, heading back to his own dorm with a quiet sense of unease.

~~~

Vincent had fallen asleep as soon as Sephiroth had left him back in his room, not changing as he collapsed into bed, wishing to erase the unsettling and mentally disturbing things that had happened that evening at the deli. He didn't want to think about it and sleep aided him in this, granting him dreamless rest until, in the morning, his alarm went off.

He rolled over and slammed his metallic claw against it, nearly crushing the clock as he sat upwards, putting his hand to his head for a moment as if to help remember which reality was real. His dream faded instantly and he felt no leftover bad feelings from it, so he assumed it was unimportant. 

The more important thing was that he was feeling slightly better now, his stomach finally having ceased its relentless assault against the rest of his body.

Remembering that he had an art class to go to, he sleepily got dressed and looked out the window. As it had been for the past week or so, it looked fairly pleasant outside, so he decided to got with black t-shirt and jeans, with his trenchcoat as protection against the morning winds. He put his walkman in his pocket and began walking, hoping that his stomach would stay calm throughout the day and that the sickness was truly over.

He made it to his class early again and turned on the lights, wondering if perhaps this would become a morning ritual for him. He settled back into his easel in the corner, curling up on his chair and letting his trenchcoat engulf him. He did not feel completely well, weakness and a vague sense of dizziness still plaguing him, and the familiar feel of his coat made him feel safe.

Vincent coughed for a moment, feeling his throat ache in response, and he hoped that his sickness was not migrating into new territory instead of vanishing.

Eventually he dragged his sketchbook out and began drawing again, but his shaky and weak hands made it hard to draw and he felt uninspired. Everything he did draw looked strange or out of proportion, and it bothered him to such an extent that he finally put his book back in his bag, not wanting to draw something he would only hate later.

He watched with mild disinterest as the rest of his classmates slowly filed in, dropping their toolboxes and sitting at their easels with what seemed like sheer determination and focus, more then Vincent ever seemed to have in this class. He noted with annoyance that they still had the cube picture they had to work on, so he stood unsteadily, making his way to his locker with small, shuffling steps to fetch the worthless picture out of his portfolio.

He heard some people whispering around him, but not loud enough so that he could understand what they said. He naturally assumed it was about him, but he had gotten rather used to the whispers and strange looks by this point and did not consider it enough of an annoyance to do something about it.

Seeing others going to work before everyone had arrived, Vincent decided to follow the same path, not wanting to spend more time staring and working on his drawing then necessary. 

He hated it already...the angles were all distorted and emphasized, and there was way too much black. He had unfortunately learned that charcoal was quite difficult to get out of paper and once something has been colored black, there was a very little chance of it ever becoming even close to white again. There were smudges all over his drawing and he did not even particularly care. 

His subject matter was _cubes_ for god's sake...how on earth could he care enough about that to find some magical way to erase the smudges? The more he stared at his picture the more he hated it, and to further this he happened to look over at some other students work.

He noted their lines were perfect, angles perfect, and they seemed bereft of the smudges that were plaguing Vincent so irritatingly. How did they do it? They weren't allowed to use rulers...Relm said that would be "more natural", although Vincent thought she had no idea what she was talking about. Not only did he feel irritated at his picture, now he also felt it was inadequate.

He was going to fail this class because he couldn't draw _cubes_. The thought was extremely depressing.

Well, if he was supposed to be learning something from this, he had learned he would never use charcoals again.

He left his music on while he worked at his picture half-heartedly, trying to get it to match some of the more capable students work. Because of the intensely high volume, he did not even notice when Relm stood behind him and examined his work until she tapped his shoulder.

Vincent jumped sharply at her contact, causing him to drop his charcoal stick and shatter it against the floor once again. Angry and embarrassed, he pulled the headphones from his hair and immediately leaned down to pick up the pieces, his music pulled from his hearing just long enough for him to be able to hear the snickers of the other people in his class at his frightened reaction. He coughed as he changed altitudes while Relm spoke as if she thought he was actively listening.

"Ah, Vincent...this is very promising, very promising...however, you need to learn to keep the contrast up high. There should be more white here..." She glanced towards the cubes that had been set up, studying them while Vincent pulled himself back up, stopping his walkman as he did so. "There's far too much black. Remember to use the chamois."

Vincent stared at his picture with hatred, only mentally wondering about what on earth Relm could be talking about. He HAD used his chaomois and it was all black for his efforts. Now he could not even use it on clean paper without it smudging it. Did she have some _magical_ chamois or some method of using it that would make it work?

"It doesn't look like you're sighting either...that's why these angles are all distorted." She indicated the guilty angles. Vincent was inclined to agree with her on the distortion, although he did not see how sighting would have made a difference. "Yes...this definitly needs a lot of work. But it shows a lot of potential."

Vincent stared at the picture with disgust, waiting for her to walk away. He moved to replace his headphones, but her voice interrupted him.

"Oh yes, please don't listen to your music in class. It's disrespectful to everyone."

She walked away with that, leaving Vincent seething under the angry and agreeing stares of his fellow students. 

How on earth was his music disrespectful to his other students? He wasn't teaching _them_ and they weren't teaching _him_. Why on EARTH was that disrespectful?

He angrily, but quietly removed his headphones and set them to one side, staring at his picture with even more hate now that he did not have his music to alter his perception. He began working on it angrily, struggling to erase another smudge of black that had somehow appeared while he wasn't watching.

God, he hated this class. 

To Be Continued... 


	22. Lies, Torture

Author's Note ~ I swear ta god, I thought I posted this before. Guess not. ^_^o 

  
"Here you are, Highwind."

Cid took his paper from Tellah with a complete lack of interest. His hangover was steadily fading throughout the day, due to his increasing knowledge of how to prevent and control them, and he did not feel as bad has he could have. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he could deal with this class without killing someone.

At least, that's what he hoped.

He stared down at the essay that he had banged out in the hour before class somewhat earlier in the week. Frustrated at the repeated poor grades he was getting back on his papers originally, he had just given up and began writing things that he knew Tellah seemed to want. He edited his words, his sentence structure, went back and removed entire sentences that he was sure his professor would find superfluous...this was the first essay he had had returned since he began doing this, and he wasn't sure what to expect. He was fairly positive that Tellah would see through his rather transparent attempt at a "correct" paper and readied himself for another after class session that really only consisted of one person talking and the other pretending to listen. He flipped to the last page lazily as Tellah continued to make his way around the room. At the sight of the large circled B+ on the page, he blinked and shook his head almost comically.

He had to have read that wrong.

When he looked back at the paper with increased intensity, he found that the B+ did not magically disintegrate into a C- or a D+, more common and more expected grades considering his short history in this class. No, it stayed on the paper, resolute and extremely confusing.

He looked from side to side, finding that no one was paying him any attention, before turning to the short comment beneath the letter.

"Glad to see you're finally paying attention."

Confused, and positive it showed in his face, he looked up to find that Tellah was completely ignoring him, although with the testy professor he did not find that particularly unusual. 

Had he really fooled Tellah THAT well? He couldn't believe it. How could Tellah have fallen for such an an obvious fabrication of weak opinions masquerading as Cid's own thoughts? He was a college professor, after all...

As Cid regarded the old man carefully after putting the paper in his bag, his respect for his professors--however grudgingly it was given--was reduced significantly. The man sitting and talking in front of him about the romantic implications of the Eighth Saga had fallen for a lie, a lie created by one of his own students, and he had no idea.

Tellah had tried to belittle and cow Cid into submission with constant threats and bad grades throughout the last week. Now Cid felt so high above everyone in the entire class that he could have sworn he was God himself.

He allowed himself a crooked and smug smile and settled back for a long session of not listening.

  


~~~  


  
Cid was deeply relieved when the time came for Prof. Hojo's class. It was the first chance he had had lately to check on Vincent.

The first place his eyes settled on entering the room was the back, where, much to his relief, he could see the large amount of black with blotches of gold and red that made Vincent so identifiable.

He slid in place next to him. Vincent had his head settled against his arms, his claw above his head, a position he had found himself in a lot recently, mainly because it helped him feel more secure and eased the headache that he still had. He slowly turned his face towards Cid, finding the genuine concern in his eyes a relief. Cid leaned over and whispered to him quickly.

"Jesus christ, Vin, are you okay? We heard that #$^#er Seph took you someplace, we looked all over for you, swear to #^$#in' god, but we couldn't find you anywhere. You okay?"

_We?_

Reeve. 

Vincent hated Sephiroth for even inserting the paranoid thought into his mind in the first place. He didn't believe it, knew that he couldn't and had no motive or justification to believe it, but now the thought itself was firmly planted and did not want to move.

Seeing the genuine relief and affection in Cid's blue eyes at seeing him alright, at seeing him in general, made the raging jealousy that he had tried ineffectively to fight subside. He was glad that Cid was relieved. So he did care about him. He should never have doubted him. It all seemed so stupid when he looked back on it...

"Vin?" Cid gave him a confused look, causing Vincent to realize that he had been having a rather lengthy inner monologue. Vincent smiled at him weakly, struggling to think of some kind of excuse. He did not want to tell Cid what Sephiroth had told him. That was one thing he was sure about.

Too bad he wasn't as creative as Cid in this department.

"He..." Vincent's eyes darted to one side for a moment as he struggled to think of some motive Sephiroth would have for dragging him off that would not seem sinister. "He just wanted to talk to me. I think I got him to stop stalking me too, which is definitly a relief..."

Cid's expression made it clear that Vincent's story was painfully transparent.

"He wanted to _talk_ to you?" The disbelief in his voice made Vincent regret saying anything, much less such a feeble story as that.

"Yeah..." Vincent tried to make his words convincing, knowing that pulling back his previous alibi now would only make him more suspicious. "He wanted to..."

What on earth would Sephiroth want to talk about?

"He wanted to talk about me."

He winced inwardly. Bad choice of words. The look on Cid's face amplified into confused and disbelieving doubt. "_About_ you?"

"You know..." Vincent was struggling to keep any kind of hesitation from his voice, certain that an "um" would seal his lie's short-lived fate. "He's been following me...so he wanted to talk about me."

"Uh huh." Cid leaned into one of his hands, the look on his face now changing into one of slightly angry sarcasm, matching his voice perfectly. "Your stalker wanted to discuss _you_. What'd you do, have a #$^#in' tea party? 'Oh my dear Sephiroth, how frightfully good of you to notice where I store all my minor possessions and then remind me of them at a later date in an entirely #$^#IN' CREEPY WAY.' I mean _#$^#@_ Vin, you don't think I _believe_ that, do you?" 

Vincent couldn't back out now, not if he wanted to keep the foolish and inconsequential fear of betrayal Sephiroth had given birth to a secret. He decided to try and turn the tables, although he wasn't particularly good at shows of aggression. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, slowly beginning to pull himself off the desk. "Well that's what _happened_, _Highwind_."

The venom present on Cid's name was entirely unintentional and sadly, did not go unnoticed. Cid pulled away from him, hurt, frustration, and fury building on his face and in his voice. "Th' #$#^ that's what happened, _Vincent_."

That hurt although he did not know why. Vincent knew this kind of outrage at his actions was deserved, but he hadn't intended to say Cid's name that way, and to hear his full name come out of Cid's mouth felt very wrong. He looked down at his claw, watching it twitch slightly, not wanting to make eye contact as he made his tone slightly more conciliatory.

"I didn't mean to say your name like that, that was an accident." His voice was taking on a more hurt tone then he intended, and he knew it would come across as offended dignity. "But that's what happened, okay?"

Cid was silent for a while before turning from Vincent sharply, keeping his back towards him as he leaned on one fist, muttering under his breath loudly enough for his dark-haired friend to hear. "Yeah th' #$%^in' _#$^#_ that's what happened."

Vincent narrowed his eyes in Cid's direction again and turned away as well, although he rummaged in his backpack for something that did not exist as an excuse. He noticed from the corner of his eye the two jester twins making their way up the stairs to their seats, looking, if it were even possible, more exhausted then ever. His anger and frustration at Cid was forgotten in favor of concern. 

He could literally see Zorn and Thorn detioriorating in front of him, the lack of sleep and probably proper nutrition taking their toll on the already thin and gaunt twins. They stumbled to their seats clumsily -- helping one another as they fell with sharp words to cover the mutual concern -- and they took their seats, both of them instantly resting their heads on the table and not moving afterwards.

Vincent chanced a glance at Cid to see him staring at the twins with what looked like an identical level of concern. It was painful to watch someone you cared about suffer in front of you, and if Vincent's sadness and pity were any measure, Cid must have been feeling awful.

Vincent and Cid's eyes met for only a split second before Cid turned away, crossing his arms and almost dismissing Vincent's presence with a short sound of disdain. Vincent again narrowed his eyes at him, ignoring the fact that this was the second time this kind of argument had emerged because of his reluctance to tell the truth. Instead he decided to keep his own righteous outrage at Cid's behavior.

His life was his life, right? Cid had no right to go butting in. Whatever he and Sephiroth did was his business. He didn't go asking about him and Reeve or anything.

These thoughts were shallow, petty, and could have been easily dispelled, but Vincent clung to them in an effort to keep himself from apologizing and losing his dignity again.

Prof. Hojo entered the classroom with the same demeanor that seemed to lower the room temperature. He quickly perused the room as he assessed potential victims for that days lecture, and his attention finally fell on the two jester twins.

_Oh no no no...please not them...please just leave them alone, they don't need this right now..._

Vincent was fairly sure that Cid's thoughts must have been following the same lines, judging from his body posture and the expression on his face. Prof. Hojo was aware of this and apparently made a mental note of this, smiling in a sickeningly familiar way.

"Greetings, class...I hope that everyone did the reading...?"

As both Vincent and Cid involuntarily jerked at the sudden remainder that they had not, in fact, done the reading, Prof. Hojo smiled with the confidence coming from foreknowledge of the reaction. He knew that half the class would twitch in almost the exact same way. That same glance of panic crossing each face for only a moment before being hid behind a calm demeanor as they struggled to recall anything about what they _had_ read, if that was anything at all.

Zorn and Thorn did not react, but that was primarily because they were struggling to remain awake. Propping their heads up with their hands and staring forward dully, they tried to achieve the appearance of paying attention and failed. Prof. Hojo turned away for a moment, the joy he felt about the sadistic act he was about to commit so clear that Vincent almost expected him to begin humming. He almost seemed carefree when he was about to cause such pain.

_Call on me, call on Highwind, but please don't call on them..._

"I thought today we might have a little discussion on the reading...share opinions." Everyone in the class knew this was a blatant lie, as were all "discussion groups". Due to the fear of being ridiculed, berated, and/or wrong, few spoke out in such discussions unless they agreed with Hojo and/or the rest of the class. Vincent grimaced. He never spoke unless he was called on, which for some reason seemed to present to his teachers some kind of challenge to get him to speak as often and long as possible. That hadn't changed since he had come to college and he did not entirely expect that to change now.

"So, to start things out today, why don't we let Zorn and Thorn begin?"

Most students would have jumped at being called on, particularly those with no knowledge in the reading, but the slow and sluggish response of the jester twins was a clear reminder of how far gone they had to be. They exchanged bleary eyed glances before looking back at Hojo. Zorn spoke.

"What do you want us to talk about?"

Prof. Hojo seemed almost disappointed by their lack of fear or worry in regards to his question and leaned back subtly as he put one thin hand to his face, regarding them.

_Oh god, if this is going to happen, at least make it quick...god, I hope they did the reading, **please** tell me they did the reading..._

"Hmm...how about the end of the world?"

Half of the class looked on in confusion while Zorn and Thorn exchanged glances. Vincent saw Thorn's mouth move but heard nothing. Zorn turned back towards Hojo who clearly expected them to not have the answer.

_Please leave Thorn out of this..._

"You mean..." Zorn closed his eyes, attempting to sort out of his thoughts that Vincent knew had to be muddy and cluttered. He had gone without sleep before and rational thought in that state was extremely difficult.

_Please remember..._

"You mean after the...the..." Zorn looked down at the desk almost in slightly sweeping waves back and forth, searching almost physically for the correct word. Hojo looked on with a pleased and satisfied expression on his face. "After the incident with the statues, right?"

_Even their voices are tired...please let this be over quick..._

Hojo paused for a moment, the calm and controlling look on his face broken before he rapidly regained his composure, moving his cold eyes from the twins to his hand. "Yes, the statues. Tell me about the ruined world in the Sixth Epic."

Zorn and Thorn exchanged glances once more, and again Thorn's mouth moved almost silently. Although Vincent could tell that Zorn was trying not to give into the pressure, the mental and physical exhaustion must have been becoming too much for him. He pressed his hand to his forehead, pushing thin fingertips underneath the rim of the jester's cap, displacing it slightly for a moment and punctuating the silence with the jingling of bells. He closed his eyes, looking as if he were in physical pain.

"Um...the world changes after the statues...everything is bleak and black...ruined and dusty...everyone's life changes too...people change jobs and everyone gets lost...a large tower appears-"

Hojo gestured Zorn into silence with one hand, his eyes closed. "Thank you, thank you, Zorn. Thorn, would you mind going into further detail about the Tower?"

At this Thorn's eyes widened and he was brought to full consciousness, terrified at the thought of public speaking. Zorn followed his brother's reaction almost immediately afterwards, looking back and forth between Thorn and Hojo a few times as the class around him snickered in anticipation.

_Oh no no no..._

Vincent hid his hand in his face, feeling the humiliation that the two must have been experiencing, as Thorn mimicked his brothers previous gesture, pressing his hand to his head in almost the exact same way, although his eyes were wide with fear. He struggled to think of words, but Vincent almost felt a physical twinge of pain as his inverted sentence structure became audible.

"Just appeared the tower did...lightning sometimes from the tower would come...kill the...unbelievers it did..."

Thorn could not continue, the laughter at his speech only continuing to rise in volume and intensity as his voice lost power. He was blushing and he looked to be in great pain, his features clenched up in an effort to keep emotion under control or to manage to keep himself talking. Although it came as no surprise to Vincent, he was still intensely frustrated and angered by the growing smile on the Professor's face, his complete lack of consideration for the stammering small youth. Hojo made no motion to halt the laughter or mocking comments at all, almost encouraging them with his silence and the growing smile on his face.

Zorn was whispering to his brother urgently and Thorn seemed to sink further and further into his chair, his other hand slowly coming up to hide his face from view almost involuntarily. The pauses between his words were filled with the softly audible sounds of Thorn drawing raspy, frightened breaths. 

If Thorn was being threatened with a gun or some other implement of his physical destruction, the sheer fear in his body language and speech would be frighteningly similiar to the terror that the red jester was exhibiting now. "Frightened of the t-tower people are...hide they do...go and worship...some do...cult...cult they...form they...."

Zorn broke in abruptly and almost violently, causing his brother to hide his face completely from view and curl up slightly in response. The suddenness of his interruption and the flinching, frightened reaction from his brother was unexpected and peculiar, and in some way it was clear whether Thorn appreciated the help, curled up as he was. It was almost as if Thorn expected some kind of physical blow to descend on him, his arms held up in front of his face to ward off a physical presence, an instinctual but incorrect response to the overwhelming mental pain and embarassment he must have been feeling. Zorn's voice was angry, not desperate, and almost sounded like a challenge to his brother in some way, although he was shaking just as much as his red counterpart. "A cult, they form a cult, and one of the chosen is there, brainwashed-"

"Zorn." The quiet seriousness, malice, and spite, if it had not been coming from only a college professor, should have been reserved for the proclamation of death to the condemned. Zorn was instantly silent, as was the rest of the class. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the trembling duo, who were faltering under such attention.

_Oh no, oh no no **no**, oh please Zorn, just be quiet, don't say anything and maybe he'll let it go, oh please let this be it, please let Hojo move onto someone else..._

Zorn opened his mouth, almost as if to reply, but instead shut it silently and cringed in his seat. His brother had curled almost entirely into a ball, shivering pathetically. Hojo just stared with such severity...the silence was terrible.

"Zorn, was I speaking to you?"

Hojo's voice curled inbetween his words, dangerous and smooth all at once. Pronounced precisely without a moment's hesitation as Hojo continued to stand perfectly still, staring directly at his hapless victim. Zorn blinked rapidly and turned to his brother for assistance to find no help there. Finally, clasping his hands tightly to try and hide their shaking, he looked at almost every point in the room except Hojo before reluctantly meeting eyes with him. His voice was almost impossible to hear.

"No..."

"Then Don't. Interrupt. Again."

Utter silence filled the room, only the faint ticking of a nearby clock as a remainder of time passing for a few moments. Finally Zorn moved, turning and looked at everyone in the room -- soft jingling accompanying his movements -- almost as if begging someone to intercede, break the silence, take the attention off of him and his brother. It was his silent admission of failure, his awknowledgment that he and his brother could not handle this alone, an admission of the need for help and the desperate request from the others for said help. 

His eyes only met with Vincent's briefly as they roved across the room and Cid's eyes had roughly the same amount of attention paid to them, much to Vincent's slight surprise and confusion.

Vincent felt he was betraying Zorn by not saying something, but he did not know what to say. The tension was now so thick and so dangerous that he did not want to break it. It was almost as if he spoke, if he dared to bring Hojo's attention to him, then hideous pain would befall him, worse then he had ever experienced, and he did not want that. The unsubstantiated fear kept him silent. He was frightened, literally frightened, by that atmosphere in the room, and even the fact that the jester twins were utterly terrified, embarrassed, and helpless was not enough to galvanize him to action.

If Vincent already didn't have a long list of reasons to hate himself, this would have become the prime motive.

"Thorn."

Thorn reluctantly pulled his hands from his face, his fingers twitching and almost clawing at his skin as he struggled to remove them, his wrists and arms shaking with the effort. He struggled to keep eye contact with the professor who was staring at him with such frightening seriousness, the deadpan expression of someone with no mercy. Thorn's eyes were watering, but if there was one thing that he had to keep control of, it was his emotions. He struggled to speak.

"Yes?" A thin, comic squeak, but no laughter came from the rest of the class. Thorn winced almost physically at the sound of his own voice, but the puzzlement in his eyes at the lack of audible reaction from the others in the clas was clear. The air of silence was so thick, Hojo's presence so intimidating, that no one wanted that attention directed towards them, not for any reason. Everyone for themselves...but watching, silently. Victims writhing before they die had always attracted interest.

"Thank you for your somewhat succint explanation." Again the dangerously smooth voice, pronouncing words without fault or pause. Hojo stared at them with mild distaste, apparently not having expected any kind of resistance. He focused his gaze on Zorn, who was trembling madly despite his best efforts to be the stronger of the pair. "I'm sure if you hadn't been _interrupted_...it may have been very educational."

The expression on Zorn's face at the words held such terror, such absolute fear, that one could almost expect Hojo at any moment to leap forward and rip out Zorn's throat. He was frightened and that same fear held the rest of the class in its sway.

"Would anyone else like to elaborate on the tower and its significance in the Sixth Epic?" Hojo finally moved his eyes off of them, turning instead towards the blackboard with his hands behind his back.

Utter silence greeted him. Not even a sniffle from the people who had become sick over the past few days.

"Oh come now..." Hojo turned slowly. "Zorn and Thorn couldn't have been the only ones to complete the reading assignment, could they?"

Vincent realized with a rush of dizziness that he had been holding his breath. That was not a good idea. He struggled to keep silent as he felt the world move around him, his vision failing for a moment as his brain struggled to absorb the newly inhaled oxygen.

_Don't call on me, please don't call on me..._

"Perhaps Terra would like to enlighten us..."

Vincent started slightly as he realized the green-haired woman was in his class, but he secretly breathed a sigh of relief, almost palpably feeling the air of tension in the room slowly dissipate. Terra, although she had to be as frightened as anyone else, gave Hojo a detailed and somewhat lengthy answer, and soon Zorn and Thorn were forgotten as class went on.

Lady Luck seemed to focus on the two in the back as they eluded Hojo's attention for the remained of the class. Also, apparently tired of tormenting the exhausted jesters, she returned to them as well, granting them temporary invisibility, which they used to try and regain their composure.

Class finally ended and people filed out. Cid and Vincent walked next to one another, still not speaking, but when Cid halted near the row where Zorn and Thorn sat, Vincent found himself following his actions.

The twins had been engaged in a what looked like deep discussion and looked at the two of them in confusion. It was only for a moment before that look changed to one of betrayal. Seeing anger on their faces was terrible, and although Vincent had many times the advantage in height and probably strength considering the diminuitive jesters, he suddenly felt afraid of them. He was not sure why...there was an air of possibility around them, the idea that they _could_ do something horrible, that was frightening. Right now that anger was directed towards them.

"Hey Z an' T..." Cid's voice was awkward and hesitant. Their anger had not escaped his notice. Zorn and Thorn both stared at him with matching glares of hurt anger. Cid looked down, apparently also searching for words. "Um...about today..."

Zorn and Thorn both narrowed their eyes at the same time before grabbing their backpacks and stomping past them, furious and frustrated. They made their way quickly out, ignoring the sadistically innocent wave that Hojo gave them in their passing.

Vincent felt bad about not helping before, but now he felt even worse. They had every right to be upset at him...god, why hadn't he said anything?

"#$^#..." He could hear Cid mutter under his breath, and he sounded just as upset at himself as Vincent felt. Cid continued walking, glancing at Vincent occasionally to see if he was following but feigning nonchalance, and Vincent struggled to keep an air of unaffected dignity in his presence. In favor of concern for Zorn and Thorn, his arguments against Cid had been forgotten, but now he remembered and held onto them.

They parted near the door where they entered the building without a word, although Vincent could see in Cid's sharp, angry movements that he was not happy. Neither was Vincent at that moment, and he headed off to his next class in a foul mood.

  


~~~  


  
"Wait wait wait..." Reeve held up his hands. "You're telling me that Vinnie said he was 'fine'?"

"Yeah, and he was #^#%in' serious too." Cid was still deeply infuriated by Vincent's behaviour. "I mean, he actually $^#%in' thought I'd #^$#in' believe that. I mean, what th' $%&#, I'm not #$^#in' stupid, god#$#^ it."

Cid was swearing more then usual, which was not a good sign. Reeve wasn't sure how to pacify him at the moment. He decided he would just listen and see if Cid would rant himself out while he took care of the lunch in front of him.

"I mean, #$^#, that #$#%er thinks I'm a $^#@in' moron and won't tell me _#$^&_! I mean #$^#in' Jesus Christ, we're his two best friends in the entire #^$@in' school!"

Reeve nodded as he chewed, wondering whether or not he should break in yet and try to change the subject, or just allow Cid to continue ranting.

"It's a #^$#in' _insult_, that's what it is. I mean, I've taken some #^$# from him before, but I #^#@in' swear to #^$#in' god, this takes the god#$^# mother_#$^@_ing cake!" Cid had now apparently abandoned some of the logic of emphasis on his words in favor of just shouting some obscenities. Reeve waved at him to keep his voice down, which Cid reluctantly did, settling back into his seat. He stabbed angrily at the food on his plate, movements jerky and violent. "#$^#in' gets his #$^ kidnapped and won't even #$^@in' tell me what happened, mother$#^#ing angsty mother#^#%. Thinks I'm a #$^#in' idiot, that's what he thinks." Cid abruptly pointed at Reeve with his fork. "That's what he thinks I am, _a #$^#in' idiot_!"

"Cid-"

Cid ignored him entirely. "Thinks I'm his $%#@in' #$%@^ he can #$^# around with whenever he wants and #$^#in' lie to 'cause he thinks I'm #$^#in' stupid." Cid made an angry noise and turned to one side. For a moment, there was silence, but before Reeve could open his mouth to speak again, Cid cut him off with whispered, angry words. "Angsty mother_$%^@_er."

"You should try and talk to him or something, Cid. I mean, you're telling me all this, but there isn't anything I can do about." Reeve hated feeling this helpless, but at the moment he could not think of another satisfactory solution. "Maybe-"

"What th' $#^#- don't you know what'll happen by now?" Cid looked at Reeve with such hurt and confusion that Reeve felt genuinely bad that he did not know what would happen. "He'd just $^#@in' lie to me again, god$#%^# #$^@%#%."

Reeve looked around the lunchroom, searching for some kind of guidance, but finding none. "Listen, everyone lies sometimes. I mean, you lie to me and I know you lie to Vinnie too. It's something we-"

"No no, you're missin' the point!" Cid turned on him again and Reeve backed away, the fur on his tail already rising. "The #$^#in' _point_, catface!"

"And what would that be?" Reeve did not intend to sound so sarcastic, but it helped him in the longrun.

"The fact I #$^#in' apologized to him before when it wasn't even my $&#@in' fault!" Cid sounded deeply surprised and affronted that Reeve had not known the point. "I got up there and #$^#in' SANG for that mother#$^#er and I get this $^#^ in return!"

"Well, then what? What are you going to do, Cidboy?" Reeve felt a touch of anger in response at Cid putting him in this position. "Are you just going to give up and break it off with Vinnie?"

The anger on Cid's face dissolved and he sank back into his chair. This thought had not apparently came to him and he sat, one hand to his mouth, thinking for a few minutes. Reeve shook his head at him, now feeling probably as offended as Cid had been earlier.

"You're joking, right? I mean, you guys are best friends so far. I mean, if people are making up rumors about you boinking eachother, that's more then just something you can snap just like that." The mention of the rumors earned Reeve a nasty glare, but now that he had a semi-righteous rant worked up, Reeve continued. "If you break up over this, it'll be really stupid. This is a _stupid_ argument and it's not worth it."

"I am _not_ $%&#in' apologizin' again." Cid finally mumbled under his breath. Reeve rolled his eyes in irritation and shrugged.

"Well fine, don't say sorry to him. Make him say sorry to you. Just get it over with already, Jesus. You guys are acting like little kids."

"Oh, #$^# off, catface." Cid turned his attention back to his meal, his mood taking a turn for the morose rather then irate. Reeve ran a hand through his hair, folding his ears back as he did so. Many people had told him that he looked like a cat grooming when he did things like that, but personally it did not really bother him. He normally wasn't even aware when he was doing it. 

"Seriously, don't be dumb and ruin your friendship 'cause of this."

"$%^# you." Cid's voice lacked any aggression as he swallowed a forkful of food.

Reeve just shook his head in minor irritation and got back to eating as well. 

To Be Continued... 

Back


	23. The System is Down

Author's Note: It's all like, serious serious serious DRUG GROUP CRACK WOOOO. ^_^o Ah well, it's fun ta write anyway. 

  
The next few days passed with very little contact between Cid and Vincent other then sullen glares or soft muttering underneath breath. They avoided each other studiously and, if required, only exchanged a few words.  
  
The passage of time, however, did help soothe the angry feelings that had presided originally and Vincent, by the time the next week had begun, had decided to accept the fact that he was wrong.  
  
As much as he hated to admit it, he almost depended on Cid being there in his life at times. When Vincent had to work or rant or sit silently, he felt better when Cid was with him. Considering the frustration he had with his classes, the lack of Cid's calming influence was becoming evident. Vincent became more depressed and morose, spending a great deal of time in his room moping. Now that he had accepted the fact that he was incorrect--and he _was_ incorrect--he blamed himself entirely for the argument and felt absolutely awful about it. By constantly reprimanding himself for such stupid behavior, he only managed to dig himself deeper into sadness.  
  
Althought he could not help but ask himself what he _should_ have done in that situation. There was still no graceful answer to that.  
  
Either way, Vincent was prepared by the next Monday to finally confront Cid and end the standoff.  
  
Although Vincent had intended to speak with Cid at the beginning of their class, Cid's angry glare put a damper on his confidence. He sat down quietly a seat away from him, noting Cid crossing his arms and turning away.  
  
Vincent just couldn't take this anymore. It was driving him insane. He decided that after class, he would finally break this silence.  
  
Fortunately, Prof. Hojo decided not to torment anyone that day, although there was another cause for concern.   
  
The jester twins, Zorn and Thorn, were missing.   
  
Vincent noted this with worry...for all the times that Vincent had come in late to class, Zorn and Thorn were always present. They had never missed a class in the physical sense of the word, although of late they had been napping discreetly. But for them to simply not be present...it was very peculiar.  
  
Even Prof. Hojo seemed to notice this and perhaps that was why he did not attack anyone that day.  
  
As the class ended, Vincent steeled himself and watched as Cid got up and stalked angrily out of the room, intending to escape before Vincent could see or interact with him.  
  
But not today.  
  
Cid pushed his way out of the building, ignoring the calls behind him.  
  
"Highwind! Highwind, wait. Wait!"  
  
Finally Cid paused on the sidewalk, turning to Vincent with a look of irritated boredom.  
  
"What th' #$^# do you want?"  
  
"Look..." Vincent felt nervous and awkward, his arm automatically drifting to hide behind his back. "I was lying before."  
  
Cid narrowed his eyes at him. "No #$#^."  
  
"But the reason why..." Vincent ran his human hand through his hair, looking off to one side almost for inspiration before returning to Cid's angry glare. People filed around them, treating them as mere obstructions in their course to their next class rather then an oddity to be observed. This was actually rather fortuitous, considering that neither Cid or Vincent wanted a large amount of attention paid to them. "It's because I wouldn't feel comfortable telling you what he said."  
  
Cid was silent, only glaring at him. Vincent struggled to think of something to say.  
  
"He..." Vincent gestured aimlessly with his free hand. "He _implied_ things...I don't really feel comfortable telling you. But I..." Still glaring at him. Vincent had to be doing something wrong. "I know I handled this really badly. I shouldn't have made something up like that."  
  
Cid looked around rapidly, although not for other people, making a few incoherent starts to an indignant sentence before one finally took form. "What the #$^#-? You're just realizing this _now_?! Jesus $%&#in' Christ Vin, what th' #$^# is wrong with you!?"  
  
Against his wishes, Vincent felt anger rising up in response. Indignation and frustration managed to find their way into his voice despite his efforts. He held his arms out in a questioning manner. "Look, I _know_ I made a bad decision. I _admitted_ I was _wrong_. What else do you _want_?!"  
  
Cid glared at him again. "What- I swear-..." Cid buried his hands in his hair for a moment before gathering his words. "The #^#@-? 'Kay, Vin I want this to stop. I want you to stop $%&#in' with me, 'kay? I'm #$^#in' tired of this #$^#. And sayin' you #$^#in' _know it_ doesn't really #^#@in' change things!"  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Thankfully almost everyone had moved on at this point, so Cid and Vincent were left relatively alone on the sidewalk. No one was there to notice the rising sense of desperation in Vincent's voice, coupled with quiet anger. "What do you _want_?"  
  
"$%&#! $#%# if I know!" Cid threw his hands up in response, his voice matching Vincent's almost exactly, although not intentionally. "I just know that doesn't $%&#in' make it better, okay?!"  
  
"Then what will?"  
  
"How the-..." Cid stopped speaking abruptly, turning off to one side with a confused expression. Vincent followed his movement curiously, wondering what could have stopped the irate blond from continuing his rant.  
  
"Guys!" Reeve's exhausted voice came from a short distance away. The felinoid youth was semi-jogging towards them, pausing in his progress occasionally to shift what he was carrying in his arms.  
  
The childlike figure that Reeve bore towards them was alternately being held against Reeve's chest and splayed across his arms, motionless. The red-checked pattern was a dead giveaway.  
  
"Is that Thorn?"   
  
Their argument entirely forgotten, Cid and Vincent moved to meet up with Reeve halfway as he slowly slid to a stop, panting heavily. He again shifted Thorn's weight as he paused for breath before speaking.  
  
"Yeah." Reeve's ears were backed tightly against his black hair. "It's him. He's heavy-"   
  
Reeve, looking around while he was speaking, finally spotted a nearby bench and headed for it, setting Thorn down in a sitting position before gratefully sinking down himself. His tail twitching nervously, he tried to regain his breath as Cid and Vincent sat down beside him.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"$#^@, so that's why they weren't in class."  
  
Thorn was now propped upwards by Reeve's shoulder, apparently asleep. His eyes were closed tightly, dark bags painfully visible beneath them, and he was breathing fairly regularly. Reeve, on the other hand, was panicked which was not helping him regain his breath any faster.  
  
"Yeah. I don't know exactly what happened, but-"  
  
Cid was looking over Thorn carefully. "#$%#."  
  
Reeve paused to inhale. "I was at the Nurse's office, you know, and I was just waiting there for my turn. There were a lot of people there because of the whole flu thing that's going around and oh yeah!" Reeve snapped his fingers and pointed at Vincent. "Are you okay? Not sick anymore, are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. What happened?"  
  
"Okay." Another breath. "Well, I was waiting there and the thing is, I'm pretty sure someone saw Zorn and Thorn go in because they were all talking about it. I was kind of listening but not really, but anyway what I think happened is that Zorn just passed out on the way to class or something. That's what I think happened."  
  
"Breathe, Cait Sith."  
  
Reeve did so.  
  
"So I was sitting there and waiting and then Thorn comes out and he looks like someone just killed his mom or something and he sits down and just kind of curls up. So I went over to ask him what was wrong because he didn't seem really upset the day before, and he just sat there-"  
  
"Wait wait wait." Cid held up his hands. "Okay, wait. When did you hang out with them?"  
  
Reeve took a few breaths before responding, a quick smile crossing his face. "I have a life outside of you, Spazboy."  
  
Cid rolled his eyes in response as Vincent tried to ignore the statement. "So, what happened?"  
  
"Right." Reeve nervously ran one hand over one of his ears. "Um, so I sat and asked him what was wrong because he seriously looked like something terrible had happened, and he totally freaked out and started shouting at me and saying stuff like..." Reeve paused for a minute. "Stuff like 'do this without Zorn I cannot' or something. You know he talks all backwards. Anyway, he totally loses it, just starts crying right there and I don't know what to do, you know? I mean, I'm his friend but I'd never seen him like this."  
  
"Actually, on that note..." Vincent broke in more to give Reeve another chance to take in air. "I've never seen Zorn and Thorn apart. Not once. No wonder..." Vincent stared at Thorn thoughtfully. "No wonder he looks so...small I guess."  
  
"So anyway, Thorn's losing it and I sat next to him and I was trying to tell him it was okay, but he wasn't really listening and just saying the same thing over and over and over. He was really tripping out something serious. Then he suddenly just passed out." Reeve made a quick, horizontal gesture with his hand. "Just fft! Passed right out there on the chair."  
  
"Jesus..." Cid looked down at Thorn with a good deal of sympathy, his voice soft.  
  
"Understandable..." Vincent mumbled, aware the others could hear him. "Crying does tend to wear a person out..."  
  
"So Kiros came in and told me that they had a total nervous breakdown or something." Reeve scratched quickly and nervously behind one of his ears. "Like, their bodies and minds just turned right off. Or at least, Zorn's did. I think Kiros mentioned that Thorn dragged Zorn in by himself or something. Anyway, Kiros said that they needed to sleep or else they were going to seriously damage themselves. It turns out- oh yeah, this is the really freaky part." Reeve pointed at Vincent, who blinked at him in response. "You know that sick thing you had?"  
  
Vincent nodded.  
  
"They both had it!"   
  
Cid and Vincent stared at him in disbelief until Reeve finally continued as if he truly needed to elaborate. "I mean, they both got sick and they still went to work and classes and stuff!"  
  
Vincent shook his head, brushing some loose strands of hair from his face. "No wonder they just...I mean, considering how _I_ felt...I can only imagine how tired they must have been. How miserable...I can't believe they managed to do that for so long..."  
  
"Jesus #$%#in' Christ, these little guys are a #$^# of a lot stronger then I #^#@in' gave em credit for."  
  
"Actually, that was rather unethical of them." Vincent sighed. "Considering how much they do, they probably passed it to everyone else."  
  
"Unless everyone else gave it to them." Cid countered. Reeve nodded in response, but continued with his story.  
  
"Anyway, Kiros told me that their systems were totally overworked and all this other medical stuff that I couldn't understand. But he told me they really needed to sleep. They needed to sleep a lot and more often because he said it looked like some nights they didn't sleep at _all_. Kiros has got Zorn in the Nurse's Office but he said he couldn't take Thorn in, because..." Reeve looked distant for a moment, his story trailing off into thin air before he seemed to remember his place. "He said that he didn't trust them together. They'd escape or something. Anyway, he asked me if I would do it and I said I would-"  
  
"You?" Cid pointed at Reeve incredulously, who responded with a kind of indignation.   
  
"Yeah, me. I'm the only friend they've got here and I see Kiros..." Again, Reeve seemed to remember something or focus on something else other then the conversation, before returning as if nothing had happened. "Kiros asked me to take care of Thorn for a few days until Zorn's okay. So he's going to have to stay with me for a while."  
  
Reeve then snapped his fingers again and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a small red plastic bottle. "Oh, that reminds me, Kiros told me that I was supposed to give him these because..." Reeve struggled to remember. "He said that they can't sleep normal anymore...something like that."   
  
He handed the bottle over to his two friends, shrugging as best he could without disturbing the sleeping youth beside him. "He said it would also help them calm down. They're both majorly stressed out."  
  
Although Reeve held it out in both their general vicinities, it was Vincent who actually took the bottle, studying the label as if he understood what it said.  
  
"So...this is...Valium?"  
  
Reeve shrugged again to the best of his ability. "Kiros said he tweaked it a little. So it..." Reeve scratched behind his ear once again, although this time without the same kind of nervous energy present before. "It would help them sleep and calm down at once. I didn't really understand it all...he talked a lot about...benzo thingies. I'm not good at that kind of thing."  
  
"I can't read Dr. Kiros' handwriting...how often are you supposed to give it to him?"  
  
Reeve looked down, again scratching at the same spot behind his ear as he struggled to remember. "Um...I think he said twice...he said that it was stronger then usual because of all the stuff he added or something...he didn't really call it Valium, he called it something else, but he said that I could call it that 'cause they're almost the same thing."  
  
"So, when is he supposed to take it?" Vincent paused and then looked over at Reeve. "Actually, have you even asked Thorn about this? I mean, is he going to stay in your room?" Vincent was about to inquire about what Reeve's roommate would think when he remembered that Reeve's roommate wasn't a jerk. "I don't think Thorn's going to like this, considering."  
  
"Yeah, they're %$&#in' _obsessed_ about their work. I'm surprised they haven't #$&#in' lost it _before_ now."  
  
"Um..." The thought had not occurred to Reeve and he paused, trying to think of a response. "I...I didn't really think about asking him...I'm sure that after...after I explain it to him, he'll...you know...go along with it...I hope..."  
  
"What about Zorn?" Vincent handed the bottle back to Reeve, who replaced it in his pocket. "I mean...Thorn's not going to be happy about _that_ either, I would think."  
  
"I know." Reeve sighed deeply at that. "Believe me, I know. But I can't do anything. Dr. Kiros said that I should try and keep them apart or else they're going to try and get each other out...but that seems so..." Reeve's ears backed against his head slightly. "It seems kind of mean...I know how close they are and break them up to...to..."  
  
Reeve closed his eyes tightly and breathed for a few moments before looking up again, the lost look having vanished from his eyes. "I'm sure it won't be that difficult."  
  
At that moment, Thorn began to wake.  
  
"Oh #$^#!"  
  
Reeve panicked, his ears backed against his head and his tail lashing wildly as he looked around desperately. "What should I do?!"  
  
"Calm down." Vincent struggled to follow his own advice. "We'll explain what happened and then we'll take him back to your room, okay? Just everyone calm down, we don't need to worry Thorn any more then he already is."  
  
Vincent felt he phrased himself semi-awkwardly, but Cid and Reeve's lack of response didn't prompt a rewording.   
  
Thorn's hands moved upwards towards his eyes, the dark red-stained backs of his hands moving back and forth as he rubbed at his eyes with surprising strength. As he pulled his hands away, he blinked twice before he seemed to realize where he was.  
  
"Where am I?!"  
  
The panicked reaction was entirely unexpected. Thorn quickly pushed himself away from Reeve, propelling himself to the ground where he landed somewhat sloppily, his arms wavering to keep his balance. He crouched in a defensive posture, balancing on his toes as he looked back and forth rapidly, searching for his counterpart.  
  
Reeve had been pushed off the bench by the force of Thorn's weight, but had regained his balance, standing nearby in case Thorn should try to run off. Likewise, in response to Thorn's completely unexpected action, Cid and Vincent had stood up and now stood near him as well, although all three tried to look non-threatening.  
  
"Okay Thorn, calm down." Reeve kneeled down, matching eyes with him. "It's kind of a long story."  
  
Thorn backed away, now obviously frightened and confused, arms shaking as he looked around frantically for his brother. "Zorn...? Where's my brother? Where is he?! Where am I?!"  
  
Reeve reached out a hand for Thorn, who darted away from his touch as if the feline youth was trying to attack him. The bells on his hat jingled furiously as Thorn looked in every possible direction, as if Zorn had somehow escaped his notice and had been here all the time.  
  
"Zorn's fine, alright? He's with Kiros right now. He told me-"  
  
"What time is it?!" Thorn flashed his arm in front of his face, glancing quickly at his watch. Fear and worry crossed his face as Thorn turned sharply on one heel. "Late I am! Work I have to, shift I missed, docked in pay, I'm-"  
  
As Thorn took the first step to begin a frantic attempt to return to work, Cid moved forward in response, his hand reaching out towards him. Thorn was not expecting someone trying to stop him, or that someone being of Cid's strength, and with an unintentionally strong jerk, Cid pulled Thorn back. The force that Cid had accidentally exerted was enough to lift Thorn off his feet and fling him backwards, causing him to collide rather sharply with the bench behind them.  
  
"Highwind!"  
  
"$#$@!"  
  
"Let go of me!" Thorn did not seem too damaged from his rather sudden collision with the bench and braced himself against Cid's grip, struggling to free himself. Cid, unable to resist a challenge no matter what the situation happened to be, added his other hand, holding Thorn tightly.   
  
"Highwind, don't-"  
  
"Got a better idea?"  
  
Reeve, now even more worried and flustered then he had been before, again kneeled in front of the small jester, struggling to get out the entire story in the shortest amount of time.  
  
"Thorn, calm down, alright? We're your friends, or at least I am. You know that. Your brother's fine, he's asleep now."  
  
A look of terror crossed Thorn's face at hearing this and he renewed his efforts against Cid's grasp, his feet scraping uselessly against the floor. Thorn simply did not have the mass to break free. "Sleep-"  
  
"He passed out because you guys work too hard." Reeve spoke with a typically uncharacteristic flash of anger, finally ceasing Thorn's struggling as the jester stared at him, thin chest rising and falling rapidly. "You're working yourselves to death, so Kiros told me that I had to make sure you got some sleep-"  
  
"Sleep!?" Thorn sounded both indignant and furious all at once. "Know _nothing_ you do! Sleep I cannot, sleep I _can not_, work I have to. A choice it is _not_."  
  
"Of course you have a choice and that's what we're here for." Reeve was not intimidated, which only seemed to further enrage the jester. "You are _going_ to get some sleep."  
  
"Make me you can't." Thorn gritted between his teeth as he braced himself against the bench and again, tried to pull himself out of Cid's grip. Cid, irritated at this point, simply raised his arm, lifting Thorn completely off the ground. Only half of Cid's size, there was nothing that Thorn could do except flail at Cid uselessly. "Let GO of me!"  
  
Vincent finally felt the urge to speak. "Thorn, we can't. Your brother's already asleep and whatever work you had to do is probably already over by now. Be reasonable, for god's sake. You have to rest."  
  
"Like that I _would_." Thorn's voice was dripping with malice and venom in his response, glaring at Vincent angrily. He bent himself almost double, managing to plant his feet against Cid's forearm. With a sharp kick, Cid was forced to relinquish his hold. Thorn fell gracefully to the ground while Cid fell back, cursing loudly and holding his arm. "But do that I _can't_!"  
  
"#$^#! You little #$^#er-!" With a surge of rage, Cid again rushed forward, managing to catch Thorn by the neck of his shirt before he could begin to run. Angrily, Cid pulled Thorn back--ignoring the choked gasp that came from him in response--and threw him harshly to the floor.  
  
"Highwind!"   
  
Cid ignored Vincent entirely as he placed one knee against Thorn's back and held the jester's arms down forcefully.  
  
"Cid, stop!"  
  
Thorn, at this point, struggled weakly to get out from under Cid, who increased the pressure in response until Thorn got the point. He ceased struggling, breathing heavily as best he could while underneath such weight. Vincent knelt down beside him, glaring at Cid angrily.  
  
"What do you think you're doing? You could've seriously hurt him!"  
  
Cid turned to Vincent angrily, gesturing with a quick nod of his head towards his dirtied and now bruised arm. "That #$^#in' hurt like $#%#in' #$^#! I'm not lettin' him do that without payback, god$#^#it."  
  
Vincent still did not approve, but then again, it did prevent Thorn from going anywhere. "I don't think that was a good idea."  
  
"Well $%@#, _you_ think of a better one."  
  
"Thorn? Are you okay?" Reeve, ignoring his friend's bickering, looked down to where Thorn's cheek was pressed against the pavement. "Look, this isn't really an option for you at the moment. You're going to have to come with us and you're going to have to go to sleep."  
  
"I can't." Thorn's voice broke in the middle of his sentence, tired and weak. "I can't..."  
  
"Thorn, please listen. The world won't end if you don't work for a day." As Reeve dug the bottle out of his pocket, Thorn spoke again with the same tired, broken voice.  
  
"It will. Know it you don't, but it will..."  
  
"Here." Reeve fished one of the small tablets out of the bottle and held it out towards the pinned jester, who stared at it without expression. "Just take one of these, alright? You can come back with us."  
  
"Can't."  
  
"You little @#%@%^@!" Cid leaned heavily on the knee on Thorn's back, prompting a pained cry. "You stupid #$^#er, we're tryin' to help you, for the love of Christ! Stop bein' so #$^#in' stupid!"  
  
"Highwind, stop it!" Vincent reached out, putting a hand on Cid's shoulder angrily. "This isn't helping!"  
  
Cid looked down at Thorn angrily, then looked back at Vincent. With an frustrated noise, he turned away, moving his knee off of Thorn's back in the process.   
  
Cid released Thorn slowly, poised in the event that he should try to escape again. Fortunately, the jester only pulled himself upwards slowly, arms and legs shaking in the process. Reeve reached out and steadied him with one hand, the other still offering the tablet.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Thorn just stared at him.  
  
"We're not going to let you go unless you take it, alright? Please, make this easier..."  
  
Thorn narrowed his eyes at Reeve. "My brother...?"  
  
"He's fine. He's with Kiros at the mom-"  
  
"See him...take me to him."  
  
"I can't. Kiros told me-"  
  
"ZORN!" The sudden fury and burst of energy at the shout shocked the three of them. "Want to be with ZORN I do!"  
  
Reeve forced his ears back upwards as he struggled to think of something to say. Quickly, he again offered the tablet. "Here, take this and we'll take you to him, okay?"  
  
Thorn stared at Reeve suspiciously, face still smudged slightly his visit to the ground. Cid stood to one side, Vincent at the other, watching as Thorn let loose a deep sigh. He covered his face and curled up into a ball, shaking. Reeve, concerned, reached forward again.  
  
"Thorn...?"  
  
"Can't...can't..."  
  
Reeve pulled one of Thorn's hands free and pressed the tablet into his hand.  
  
Thorn returned the hand to his face, but it was impossible to tell whether he actually ingested the pill or not.  
  
"Thorn, please don't do this."  
  
"The school...our jobs...our homework..." Thorn was shaking, although now it seemed to be out of nervous energy rather then any kind of emotional distress. "Do... do what are we going to do...the end of it all this is...the end..."  
  
"Thorn, this isn't the end of anything." Reeve capped the bottle and put it back into his pocket. "Did you take it?"  
  
Thorn nodded.  
  
"#%&@in' #$^#." Cid spoke with barely concealed irritation and he grabbed Thorn's hand viciously, pulling it away from his body with a sudden jerk. Thorn stared at him in shock, then struggled to pull his clenched fist from Cid's own.  
  
"Let go!"  
  
With a little application of pressure, Cid managed to force Thorn to open his hand, where the tablet stuck to sweaty skin as Thorn struggled to free himself.  
  
"I knew he was lyin'. #$^#, the only way he's goin' to take it is if we make him."  
  
Reeve sighed deeply. "Thorn, _please_ just take it."  
  
"I CAN'T!" Thorn shouted furiously, but this time Cid had apparently had enough.   
  
"Th'#$^#in' #$^# you can't!"  
  
He grabbed the tablet quickly and in moments had Thorn pinned on his back, the pill in his mouth and Cid's hand blocking its exit.  
  
"Swallow, god#$^# you, or I swear to #$^#in' _god_-"  
  
"Highwind!" Vincent pulled at Cid's other arm, prompting Cid to wave him away distractedly as Reeve, worried but unsure of what to do, hovered around them nervously, rubbing at his own hands.  
  
"Shut th' #$^# up, Vin, 'less you've got a better idea!"  
  
Vincent could not think of anything and stood by as Thorn kicked uselessly, unable to shift Cid's much more massive body off of him or escape the hand that had enclosed his mouth. He made angry incoherent noises, but Cid remained unmoving, glaring at the jester angrily.  
  
"Swallow, you god#$@# little #$^@#!"  
  
Thorn breathed hard, staring at Cid angrily and helplessly as he finally ceased struggling, lying still. Cid waited patiently until Thorn closed his eyes and opened them again, making a small noise through the flesh barrier covering his mouth.  
  
"Did you do it this time?"  
  
Thorn struggled to nod, still glaring at Cid angrily.   
  
"And I'm #$^#in' serious here or else you're going to #$^#in' regret it-"  
  
Thorn nodded again and Vincent, sighing, buried a hand in his hair as he looked around nervously. "I think I saw him swallow something...at least that's what it looked like..."  
  
Reeve leaned in towards Thorn, looking concerned and not entirely approving of the current situation. "Did you really do it this time?"  
  
Thorn again nodded weakly, his eyes closing, then opening again after a short pause. This seemed to disorient him slightly and his head listed to one side for a moment.  
  
Cid let him go, wiping his hand off on his shirt as he stood up. Thorn remained on the ground, staring upwards at the sky until Reeve reached a hand out towards him.  
  
"Here."  
  
Thorn groped for Reeve's hand clumsily, forcing Reeve to take Thorn's hand, and he pulled him upwards slowly. Thorn's face was red, burning with humiliation, and he glared at Cid resentfully and angrily.  
  
"Do you want to see your brother now?"  
  
Vincent and Cid stared at Reeve in confusion at the question, although Thorn continued to stare off at something in the distance.  
  
"Thought I did...I couldn't you said..."  
  
"I know, but let's make an exception, alright? Considering..."  
  
Thorn wavered on his feet slightly, and this apparently galvanized him into action. He steadied himself, opened his eyes wide, stood up straight, and stared forward, the dizziness present before now gone.  
  
"Alright."  
  
Reeve waited for a moment before noticing the ever-present jester cap on Thorn's head had been upset in the previous scuffle. However, when he reached out a hand to adjust it, Thorn swatted him away angrily.  
  
"I'm sorry about all this, Thorn..."  
  
Thorn mumbled something under his breath that was unintelligible but most assuredly not flattering. Sighing, Reeve turned, making sure that Thorn saw where he was heading. "It's this way."  
  
As they walked, Cid and Vincent made their way closer to Reeve, although still surrounding Thorn should he try to escape again.  
  
"Why did you say that?"  
  
Reeve turned an ear towards Vincent. "What?"  
  
"Why did you say you'd take him to his brother? You aren't supposed to."  
  
"I know that, but I also know how long it takes those things to kick in." Reeve whispered back. "He won't make it all the way there."  
  
They had only walked for about fifteen minutes, Reeve having deliberately led them down a wrong path, before Thorn's steps became increasingly heavy and slow. Stumbling and apparently furious at himself for this lapse in self control, Thorn fought to keep his body under his control. This, however, was a battle that Thorn could not possibly win.

The three friends kept him from falling initially, but after a while, Thorn simply could not continue. They were prepared for when Thorn fell forward, unable to keep his body moving.  
  
Cid caught the small jester with ease, although this time the previous anger and vicious power in his motions was absent. He spun Thorn around, lifting him up into his arms smoothly and gently. The jester, so emotionally volatile only fifteen minutes ago, now slumbered peacefully, twitching only slightly.  
  
"Thank _god_ that's over with..."  
  
Reeve stared at Cid for a moment, his ears flicking back and forth before he finally found words. "Um...I...It's weird...how you were so mean before...but now you're not."  
  
"Oh, that..." Cid looked down at the unconscious youth in his arms. It was amazing to think that Thorn was his age, but was only the size of a small boy. "Well #$^#, he was frustratin' me. I mean, we were only tryin' t'help and he had to go all ape#$^#. It's #$^#in' ridiculous. Sometimes you got to take charge, I guess."  
  
Reeve ventured ahead of Cid and Vincent for a moment, allowing Vincent to speak with Cid for only a few seconds.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"#$^#, this ain't th' time."  
  
"I know. But let's let it go, alright? At least until Thorn's better."  
  
"...#$^#. Fine."  
  
"We aren't too far from my room now." Reeve looked back at them with a relieved smile, although it was obvious that the past events had had an emotional toll on him. His tail moved nervously and quickly, the fur ruffled, and his ears remained pressed against his head. "He should be out for a good amount of time."  
  
"Thank god." Cid shifted Thorn's weight as they continued walking.  
  


~~~

  
  
Moog was home when they arrived back at Reeve's room, although he did not ask any questions. Reeve nodded at him and this seemed to satisfy him.  
  
"I guess he can stay in my bed..." Although loud enough for the others to hear, it seemed that Reeve was talking more to himself then to anyone else. "For now, anyway."  
  
Reeve pulled the covers off his bed with quick, nervous energy, looking at Cid immediately afterward. "I hope he'll be okay."  
  
Cid put Thorn down on the bed, where he immediately curled into a fetal position. Reeve replaced the covers, this time with much more grace, and watched as Thorn only curled deeper into himself.  
  
"Should you take off his hat?" Vincent ventured, feeling awkward after not speaking for so long. Reeve raised a hand to his mouth, then shrugged.   
  
"No. They don't like other people touching them." He whispered softly in response.  
  
Cid shrugged as well, and Reeve fidgeted, apparently trying to think of something else to say.  
  
"You guys got classes now, right?"  
  
That was a not so subtle hint.  
  
"Right." Vincent actually did not, but he turned to leave anyway. "We'll talk to you later, alright?"  
  
Reeve nodded, and the pair left his room, shutting the door quietly behind them.  
  
Normally, there would have been a long, awkward pause as they made their way back to their respective rooms, but this time Vincent refused to let silence take hold. "What are they going to do?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I mean...the school." Vincent gestured vaguely. "Everywhere I go, Zorn and Thorn are doing things. They work everywhere. It's almost like they work every shift of every job. They even work at the cafeteria."  
  
"So what's goin' to happen now that they've blown out, right?" Cid's voice was not quite back to normal yet, still harboring some suspicion and lingering resentment. "Well, $%&$. I don't know. I'm more worried about how the two of 'em are goin' to handle this."  
  
"This is going to be terrible for them..." Vincent pushed the door open, letting Cid pass by him. He didn't do this as a kind gesture, but rather subconsciously, and Cid did not react to it. "They're together all the time. They're almost never apart. It has to hurt when that happens..."  
  
Although Vincent had been struggling to fight away silence, it seemed like it had returned now. Cid stared at him peculiarly, and Vincent could not think of anything to say.  
  
"%#^#, I don't know...I guess...#^%#." Cid kicked aimlessly at the air. "I wish there was somethin' I could #^#@in' do. I like those little guys. Feel bad for 'em. And now there's nothin' I can #$^#in' do ta help 'em out...#$^@." Cid's tone was laced with self-contempt, but Vincent was not worried.  
  
"I know what you mean. I've seen them suffer and such...Hojo particularly enjoys doing that." This prompted a growl from Cid. "I do feel bad for them though...I wish there was something we could do."  
  
"#$^@. I wish I had talked to 'em more now. Catface is doin' everythin' and...@#$^@." Cid shook his head. "I don't know. I'm probably not makin' any sense."  
  
"No, I understand."  
  
"$#&#! We've still got that #$^#in' meetin' tonight."  
  
"Ugh." Vincent couldn't suppress a reaction. It had slipped his mind, but now that it returned it brought with it even more distasteful memories. "I almost forgot."  
  
"#%#. Have to go deal with a bunch of $%&#in' crazies...#$@%. I'm so not in the #$^#in' mood."  
  
"Well, we still have a few hours..." The words escaped him before he thought about them and he regretted their passage. Vincent decided that he may as well complete his intended statement. "If you want, we could go back to my room..."  
  
"I..." Cid paused and the two of them stood on the sidewalk in silence. He turned to Vincent and stared at him for a few moments, apparently considering how to react.  
  
Cid punched Vincent rather roughly in the shoulder, then smiled at him in an almost natural way. "Alright, let's go."  
  
Despite the slight ache in his shoulder, Vincent could not help but smile in response. He hoped it looked as genuine as it felt.

  
  


~~~

  
  
"I see we have a new member tonight." Aeris tapped her pencil against her clipboard before pointing at the newcomer. Both she and Rinoa seemed rather frazzled...or at least, more so then they had seemed the first meeting. Cid and Vincent were inclined to blame that on the lack of Zorn and Thorn, but they had no evidence. "Care to introduce yourself?"  
  
Vincent recognized the youth who sat next to his roommate. He had been there when the room search that had landed him in this group had occurred. What was his name again...?  
  
"I'm Zack."  
  
"Alright." Aeris scribbled something down. "Why are you here?"  
  
"Just keeping ol chocohead company." Zack nudged his reluctant companion, and Cloud shot him a glance of mild irritation. Zack seemed all too enthused to be present at the group. No one else could understand why.  
  
"HI ZACK!" Zell shouted from across the group.  
  
Never mind.  
  
"Hello." Irvine slinked down in his seat and pointed over ta Zack languidely. Vincent sighed and leaned back as he waited for the inevitable rush of greetings for the new member. This was still so tedious...  
  
Cid waved shortly. Vincent didn't bother to do anything.  
  
"That's okay, but I'd like more notice next time." Aeris looked down at her clipboard. For a moment her voice faded, sounding almost lost in thought. "I had no idea..."  
  
She shook her head and looked back up again, returning to her more alert self. "It's not important. Anyway, I'm glad you all could make it."  
  
"Pleasure to be here, as always." Irvine smiled at Aeris from his seat across the room and she studiously ignored him.  
  
"Now, I trust none of you have taken anything since the first meeting?"  
  
There was a silence greeting this in which several pairs of confused eyes stared into hers.  
  
"Of course, this is all confidential-"  
  
"Oh, oh." Kefka looked up from his lighter for once, waving a hand excitedly. He stared at Aeris with the peculiarly psychotic grin. "I took a _lot_."  
  
Aeris stared at him in utter disbelief, which only seemed to please Kefka more, encouraging him to continue. "It was fun. I do so love the artificial high, don't you? It's so..._illegal_."  
  
Click went the lighter.  
  
And away scooched the chairs around him.  
  
"Kefka, you know that the entire purpose of this group-"  
  
Kefka's insane giggling cut Rinoa off before she could fully go into her rant. Zell looked back and forth rapidly between the two then began waving his hand back and forth.  
  
"Yes, Zell?" Aeris managed to regain her composure first.  
  
Zell stood up so fast that the chair he was sitting on was sent flying. He struck a dramatic pose, deepening his voice as he spoke. "My name is Zell Dincht and I'm a lifeaholic!"  
  
Among those who responded to him were Cid, Zack, Reno, and Irvine. "Hello, Zell!"  
  
"Sit down!" Aeris was not amused.  
  
Zell did so, but apparently forgot his chair was missing. Zell fell flat on the floor, where he managed to find his way over to his chair by swimming across the ground.  
  
Irvine smirked broadly. "He's doing the hundred meter carpet."  
  
"Irvine!" Rinoa sounded aghast and, despite his best efforts, Vincent could not stop his smile. The majority of the group was already laughing, excepting the stoically unamused Three and Squall.  
  
"Calm down! Everyone calm down!"  
  
It took a few minutes, but eventually Zell's chair was uprighted and order was restored. Or at least, the closest approximization the drug group ever got to.  
  
"Alright now, let's be serious. I've had enough silliness for today, alright?"  
  
"Wait, why are you here again?" Reno leaned forward and pointed over to Zack, who blinked at him a few times before adopting a bizarre tone and an equally bizarre expression.  
  
"I am government man come from the government. The government has sent me."  
  
"Reno, we already went over that." Aeris was now getting irritated, which was not threatening in any way, shape, or form. Everyone else snickered to themselves at the response, but no other comments were made.  
  
Relative peace reigned for about fifteen minutes.  
  
"And that is why you should never take ecstacy, it can have-"  
  
"Oh my god." Cid jerked up in his chair for a moment, looking around in confusion. He finally settled at staring at the two girls sitting a few chairs away. In the silence that followed, he pointed at them almost accusingly. "Your mouth is movin', but I'm not hearin' a #$@$ thing."  
  
"All I hear is a slight buzzing!" Zell chipped in from across the room, much to Cid's surprise, and he smiled at their confusion. "I have entered the 'i'm not listening' zone."  
  
"Excuse me, I find this extremely disrespectful-" Aeris raised her voice. Zell looked straight at the ceiling and shouted at an exactly equal level of volume.  
  
"IIiiiii'm nooooot liiiiisteeeeeninnnnngg!"  
  
"Zell!"  
  
"Nooot Liiiisteniiing!"  
  
"So, what's your story?" Zack was looking over at the winged Black Mage, who had been glaring at almost everyone since the meeting had began. Three just stared at him, not giving an answer.  
  
"That's Three, Zack." Aeris was glad that at least this conversation had distracted Zell from his shouting. "We should have done introductions, that reminds me..."  
  
"Black Waltz Number Three." Irvine mellowly waved over to the winged Black Mage. "A romantic waltz by any chance?"  
  
Vincent stared at Irvine in surprise. So they were called Waltzes...  
  
Three glared openly at Irvine and did not dignify him with an answer.  
  
"Yeah, they're dead. They're...all messed up." Irvine continued, waving his hands in a vague, lazy way.  
  
"Stop talking." Three finally spoke, his voice surprisingly harsh. Irvine only smiled at him in response as Aeris tapped her clipboard again as if it would regain order.  
  
"Alright, we've had enough sidetracking for tonight. I would like to get back on topic please."  
  
"I ate it."  
  
"Excuse me?" Aeris stared at the incredibly pleased Zell incredulously. He blinked at her and returned her stare with disbelief.  
  
"I ate your topic. It was delicious. Like a sweet, sweet chestnut."  
  
Aeris opened her mouth to reply, but then decided against it. She turned back to the group.  
  
"As I was saying, the maturity of this group-"  
  
"AGH! MY ARTERIES!" Zell flung himself bodily into the center of the group, grasping the general area of his heart and thrashing around wildly.  
  
"ZELL!"  
  
"You know..." Cid smiled at Vincent, who returned it reluctantly. "If all the meetings are like this, maybe this won't be god#$^# boring after all." 


	24. Tell Me Tell Me Tell Me

Author's Note: I live! I've been writing in Vargas lately, but I felt like returnin back ta my favorite not-hideously-dysfunctional couple. It felt a little strange, but that's okay.  
Ta answer a reviewers question, I've never had any teachers as bad as say, Hojo or Tellah. I just think Hojo would make an evil teacher, and Tellah just struck me as amusing irony. Much like Relm, actually. I've had Relm-esque teachers, but never at her level of pretention. It's officially way too late. I should be asleep.  
I'll finish da Dragon Demon fic soon. Honest. Fer real this time.  
Oh yeah. Cause people asked me this, it's called The Workaholic cause it's named after a song by 2 Unlimited that was on when I started it, before I knew it'd explode inta this monster of a story. If ya listen ta da song, it works with it pretty well I think. Especially da school bells at da beginnin.  
This is shorter then my usual chapters, but important stuff happens in it. Each day they get closer and closer...dance my puppets DANCE! 

  
The two of them walked outside in silence until Vincent abruptly stopped short. Cid paused along with him, blinking in confusion.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I..." Vincent clenched a fist angrily as his voice sank. "I forgot I have to do a report tomorrow..."  
  
"What kind of report?"  
  
"It's for my art history class...something about a renaissance artist...typical, but I was supposed to go the library..."  
  
"Well, why don't we go now?" Cid shrugged casually. "They shouldn't be closed now. @#$^, the libraries are one of the last buildings t'get closed."  
  
Vincent smiled softly at him. "And how would you know that?"  
  
"Y'know how it is." Cid laughed awkwardly. "You go out killing whores and burying bodies as often as I do, and you know who could be watchin'. 'Sides..." Cid, as if reminded by the point he was about to make, lit a cigarette. "Reno #$#&in' hates it when I smoke in the room."  
  
They walked for some time and traded inconsequential banter until Vincent noticed they passed Cid's dorm. He waited for a few minutes afterwards, thinking maybe Cid was going to walk with him a short distance then turn back. It became gradually more clear that Cid was intending to accompany him the entire distance.  
  
"Um...Highwind..."  
  
Cid blew a cloud of smoke into the still night air before turning to face him. "Huh?"  
  
"Are you coming with me?"  
  
"Well..." Cid coughed and looked away. "#$&#, sure. I mean...we haven't spent a lot of time hangin' out like we used to, so..."  
  
He avoided discussion of their previous argument completely, which Vincent appreciated. He would rather have the affair remain in the past where it belonged.  
  
"I'm not going to hang out at the library, you know...I have to get some books and do my report..."  
  
"Oh #$&#, sure I know that, I mean, I was payin' attention before and everything." Cid shrugged exaggeratedly. "I won't bother you at all."  
  
"Then what's the point? If we aren't talking, then why would you want to be there at all?" Vincent put his hands in his pockets, genuinely confused. "I'll just be ignoring you."  
  
"$%&#, that's okay." Cid mumbled around his cigarette. There was a pause as Cid copied Vincent's movement, putting his own hands into one of his many pockets. "I'll jus' be there."  
  
Vincent stared at Cid for a few moments, but he gave no further explanation, studiously looking away from him.  
  
_That's it? You can't just want to be there because I'll be there, can you?   
  
...Did...did you miss me that much...?  
_  
Vincent turned his attention back to the sidewalk, wondering if Cid would be able to hear him. "I'd feel better if you were there anyway...it can be dangerous at night."  
  
"Oh sure, sure." Cid latched onto this excuse quickly. "With those #$^#in' #^$@^&$ weapons runnin' around. I know that #$%#tard Hojo said he wouldn't let 'em #&$# me up anymore, but I don't #%&#in' trust him. #$^@in' #$@#sucker."  
  
Vincent smiled at the flow of epithets, looking upwards to the sky. The stars shone brightly tonight. "I have to agree...I don't trust him either. So it's better this way."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
Both of them were grateful for an excuse.  
  


~~~

  
  
"Are you just going to stare at me?" Vincent leaned over a book, one metallic hand buried in his hair.  
  
"What?"  
  
The library had small alcoves buried among rows of books, each equipped with a table, a lamp, and a few chairs. Intended for private studying or meetings for group projects, they had small partitions to section them off from the rest of the library. Vincent and Cid studying in one of these areas was rather unnecessary considering the building seemed to be deserted, but there was the matter of the librarian who glared at them frostily when they entered. They did not want to endure her silent annoyance any longer then they had to.  
  
Vincent had struggled to find a book that would suit his needs. He had to find one about this certain artist in the renaissance who, as fate would have it, had no books specifically dedicated to him or his work. Vincent took out several large compendiums on renaissance art in general in hopes of finding some snippets of information, but the books were filled with so many paintings and names that he was having difficulty locating the one he wanted. The index was no help whatsoever, referencing incredibly minor and unhelpful things such as the word "painting" or "fresco" instead of actual artists. He found it rather annoying and impractical.  
  
Cid sat to one side, his head resting on his arms, staring at Vincent distractedly as he struggled his way through another thick book.  
  
"You're staring at me. It makes it hard to concentrate." Vincent glanced at him with a mix of annoyance and appreciation. He was glad that Cid had decided to accompany him, but he was never going to get any work done this way. "Why don't you get a book to read?"  
  
"Meh, don't like readin'."  
  
Vincent smiled. "And you want to be a writer."  
  
"Eh, #$&# you." Cid mumbled without any menace. "All the books in here suck @^% anyway."  
  
"Are you sure? You must be bored out of your mind." Vincent looked back down at the book, wishing it would write his report for him. "I'm sure you have to have better things to do then watch me read."  
  
"Not really. I got a paper to #$&#in' write, but I don't think I'll do it. I don't feel like it."  
  
"At this rate, you're going to fail out of college..." Vincent turned a page. Cid leaned his head to one side nonchalantly.  
  
"Eh, that old $%&@ Tellah'll just #%&*@ at me again. 'You have no respect for the written word, yap yap blah #&%# blah I like to whack off at night with Dickinson blah #$&@in' blah.' It's $%&#in' borin'."  
  
Vincent found himself laughing softly and looked around him to see if anyone had noticed. Despite the utter lack of other people since they had entered, Vincent felt obligated to remind Cid: "Keep your voice down, we're in a library."  
  
Cid rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever..."  
  
A few minutes passed by before Vincent ventured to speak again, this time his tone serious and soft. "But really...why are you here?"  
  
"#%&#..." Cid mumbled in response. "I really #$&#in' hate it when we #&#%@ at each other. It #$&#in' drives me crazy. I'm just glad to be around you and not feel like you're going to smash my head in and drink my blood or something."  
  
Vincent looked at him for a few seconds, then folded his arms atop his book, staring at Cid intently. "Are people saying I'm a vampire again?"  
  
Cid seemed to enjoy having this much attention being paid to him. He sat up and poked Vincent's forehead. "You got the look down, man. Can't #$&#in' blame 'em." He watched Vincent frown slightly before continuing. "I'm just #&#&tin' you, I ain't heard anythin' like that."  
  
"I hate it when people call me a vampire. It's ridiculous." Vincent rubbed his forehead distractedly. "But...you were saying...?"  
  
Cid blinked at him for a few moments, then sighed deeply. "Why I'm here...#$&#. I don't #%&#in' know. I just missed you, I guess. Or bein' around you. $%&#."  
  
"Missed me?"  
  
"Yeah. You're the only one I can really #$%&in' talk to. Or at least, the only one who listens. Y'know..."  
  
Vincent did know. He felt obligated to continue his line of questions though. "But you have Reeve..."  
  
When he spoke his name he felt a shiver of bad feeling run through him for a moment that he forcibly dispelled. He was not about to bring that up again if he had the choice.  
  
Cid sighed and leaned down against the table, folding his arms and staring up at Vincent from his new vantage point. "He's...it's not th' same. Everythin' with Reeve is a #$#&in' joke, y'know? It has to be that way, or...#%&#. 'S just not the same."  
  
Vincent folded down the corner of the current page in his book and closed it, accepting the fact that he would make no further progress. He focused his attention entirely on his blonde companion. "You don't think of me that way?"  
  
"Mmmnno..." Cid mumbled underneath his breath. "#$^&, Vin...I mean...#$&#...I got th' #&#&in' $&@# kicked out've me 'cause I knew you..."  
  
_Or because they thought you were gay._ Vincent leaned forward on his hands and stared at his friend. A slight smile came to his lips. "That wasn't exactly my fault. I certainly didn't tell them to attack you."  
  
"You #&$#&." Cid mock-glared at him before he straightened up, matching Vincent's eyes. "That's not what I meant."  
  
"Well, what did you mean?"  
  
"Just..." Cid struggled with his wording and finally ended up shrugging. "It's different with us. Y'know...it's...#%&#, I'm no good at this %&#&."  
  
"Don't worry..." Vincent smiled to himself as he opened his book again. "I think I know what you mean."  
  
"Yeah..." Cid spoke almost as an afterthought, staring at the table intently as if it was trying to give him an encoded message. "I #&#@in' hope you do."  
  
There was a silence that continued for some period of time as Vincent returned to his reading, struggling to take mental notes in the wake of what he had just heard, and Cid tried to keep himself amused. Vincent found it difficult to read now...his eyes moved over the words but none of them consciously registered. Instead, he found himself glancing over at Cid more often then he was aware, staring at him as if waiting for a well-worded, easily understandable explanation of his behavior and their relationship as a whole.  
  
Although it shouldn't have been so complicated to begin with. They were friends, right? That should have been enough. But something about Cid's tone, or his behavior, or everything that had happened to them since that first day seemed to speak of something else. Vincent could not give the feeling a name, as the moment he focused on it it retreated and vanished, but he was sure that there was more in Cid's words then simple sounds.  
  
Maybe if he tried to start a conversation himself he would have more luck in finding out why he felt so...but what could he talk about...?  
  
Something that had happened recently...  
  
"About the twins..."  
  
"What about 'em?"  
  
Vincent found himself asking the same question.  
  
"I...I mean, I think we should...do something about them." Vincent felt increasingly awkward now. He was not very good at this. Cid looked up at him, somehow interested in what he was saying.  
  
"Like what? What the #$&# are you talking about?"  
  
"You know how Thorn mentioned money...I think their jobs around campus are really...important to them, to say the least. There's got to be something we can do..."  
  
Cid paused, then smiled broadly. "I get it. You want to take on one of their jobs for 'em while they're takin' a break."  
  
Vincent smiled in what he hoped was a confident way, although that idea was the furthest thing from his mind. However, on further thought it was the most beneficial thing he could do for Zorn and Thorn. "Of course."  
  
"Well, first of all, what job are we goin' to do? #%&#, we're goin' to have to plan out our schedules..."  
  
"'We?'"  
  
"Yes, we." Cid smirked at him knowingly. "There are two of those little $&#&*^&s, remember? I'm thinkin' that most of the #&$@ they do needs two people."  
  
Made sense. "Alright then...so what should we try to do...?"  
  
"#$&#, I don't know. We should go ask 'em tomorrow. You up for it?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan...if I ever finish this paper, that is..."  
  
"Don't make it sound like that's my fault." Cid leaned back down onto his arms. "Not my fault you can't #%$&in' focus."  
  
"And of course, you aren't distracting me whatsoever." Vincent struggled to read the words in front of him and again, they dissolved into meaningless symbols. He smiled at Cid's words though, finding the paper due the next morning very inconsequential in the face of their new plan.   
  
It wasn't as if he cared about what he was supposed to be learning about.  
  
Cid held up a hand in mockery of Vincent, moving it along with his words. "I'm Vincent, #$^#& #$^#$ #$&&#."  
  
Vincent struggled to glare at him, but found he could not remove the smile from his face. Somehow, Cid always managed to find the right words to remove the gravity of any situation.  
  
Maybe that was why Vincent felt so attached to him...he didn't smile much back home. He probably smiled a great deal more in his first month at college then the entire last year.  
  
Then again, he didn't have any friends a year ago. Now he had Cid Highwind...  
  
All the petty arguments and fights that he and Cid had had over the short time they had known each other now seemed completely pointless. Everything that Cid had given him, from the endless jokes to the support when he was sick, made their disputes and different personalities unimportant.  
  
His classes, his homework, everything...Vincent found that when he truly thought about it, all he wanted to do now was spend time with Cid, even if it was doing absolutely nothing.  
  
"What the #$&# are you staring at?" Cid tried to pass off his voice as joking, but he sounded a little concerned.  
  
"I'm...glad we aren't fighting anymore." That seemed like a safe thing to say. Vincent stared intently down at his book for a few moments, hoping that Cid would leave it at that. When he finally glanced over at him, Cid was still staring at him with a thoughtful expression.  
  
"Yeah..." Cid's tone was questioning, begging Vincent to continue, to explain himself. Vincent struggled with the decision inwardly, then finally stood, startling Cid into standing up with him.  
  
"I can't read any more of this...I'm going to head back now and see if I can type this up after all..." Vincent looked over at Cid, who was still staring at him, now in almost an analyzing fashion.  
  
"Want to come with me?"  
  
"No, I'd rather stay here and #%&$ the classics." Cid rolled his eyes as he picked up the book Vincent had left on the table. "#&*#in' A I'm comin' with you. Came this far, haven't I?"  
  
Vincent smiled and took the book from Cid's hand. "Yes...you have come this far."  
  


~~~

  
  
It was no surprise to either of them that when they returned to Vincent's room, Cloud was not present. He rarely ever was present. Vincent wondered briefly about where his spiky haired roommate could be, but then focused on something else. It wasn't any of business and it wasn't as if Cloud concerned himself with Vincent's affairs anyway.   
That was how they both preferred it.  
  
Vincent closed the door behind him, listening to Cid find his way over to his bed with little trouble. His metallic claw lingered over the light switch for a moment, then on an impulse he decided to leave the room in the dark.  
  
"No light? #$&# Vin, they really are going to think you're a $&#&in' vampire reject."  
  
Vincent made his way to his computer and moved the mouse. The room soon illuminated with the monitor's light as he sat down.  
  
"I'm not a vampire."  
  
"Yeah I know, y'ain't got the hair for it." Cid was reclining on Vincent's bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms behind his head. Vincent glanced over at him before he opened one of his older essay files. As he deleted unnecessary text, keeping the formatted header page, he ventured a response in a soft voice.  
  
"The hair?"  
  
"Yeah." Cid turned towards him, leaning on one elbow. "#$&#, don't you know anythin' 'bout vampires? They got #$&#in' crazy hair, wear leather, and hang out in old amusement parks."  
  
"Why do I have the feeling this is some kind of bizarre movie reference?" Vincent typed a few words, struggling to get his thoughts in order. He could barely remember the artist's name, much less their motivation behind their artwork.  
  
"Y'never saw it? #$&#, you're no fun." Cid flopped angrily down onto his stomach, turning his head so that he could still look at Vincent while he spoke. "#$&*in' killjoy, that's what you are."  
  
"Yes, _killing joy_ is the only purpose my life has." Vincent rolled his eyes, unintentionally writing several of his words down. He hastily deleted them, replacing them with overly complicated words in hopes of bluffing his way through the paper. "It's the only thing that gives my life any meaning."  
  
"Blah blahdee #$&#in' blah." Cid idly pushed Vincent's pillow onto the floor for no discernible reason. "I can see why you'd want t'off yourself if you live in the #$%&in' dark all the time, Vin."  
  
Vincent looked back at Cid with mild annoyance, turning and throwing the pillow back onto his bed. "It's like the darkness of my soul." He smiled at his own words, adding a slight melodramatic flair to them. "The darkness that pervades my everyday life. I dream of the sweet release of death..."  
  
"Jesus Vin, stop it, it's freakin' me out. #%&#in' glad you don't actually talk like that."  
  
"Oh, I just don't talk like that around _you_." Vincent typed several sentences he hoped were coherent as he smiled at Cid's reaction. "_You_ don't respect my creative genius."  
  
"That reminds me, where's that...#%&#, um...that little stuffed thing...y'know, the teachers found it when they tossed the room...what was its name...?"  
  
That turned the tables rather quickly. Vincent quickly typed several sentences before giving what he hoped was a confident and haughty reply. "I don't know what you're talking about, Highwind."  
  
"Sure." Cid apparently was satisfied with this and settled down to simply watch Vincent type.  
  
Try as he may, Vincent found it difficult to stretch even his overly inflated and false comparisons into a full-fledged paper. He cursed the fact that he had forgotten about the assignment now that the hour was getting progressively later and coherent thought became more difficult. Staying up late and struggling to write about things he didn't care about were not having a good effect on him.  
  
Cid waited until Vincent stared at the screen for a few minutes without moving. "Done yet?"  
  
His voice was sleepy and somewhat slurred. Vincent looked back at him with a sigh.  
"I can't think of anything more to write..."  
  
"Well #$&# it. Jus' go to sleep then. It's not worth it."  
  
"I can't let my grades in this class slip..." Vincent stared at the screen hatefully. "I'm having enough trouble with it as it is."  
  
"#&#$, if your teacher is really as much of a #$&@& as you say she is, it wouldn't #$^#in' matter if you did a good job or not." Cid mumbled. Vincent wondered if Cid knew how much sense that made considering he seemed rather tired.  
  
"I may as well give it my best shot..." Vincent sighed, turning back to the paper reluctantly. He heard Cid mutter something unintelligible before he began typing again.  
  
He worked and reworked his sentences until he felt like if he read the artist's name one more time his head was going to explode. Still he felt unsatisfied and disappointed at his own writing. In disgust he saved the file and closed it, deciding to take Cid's advice and let it be.

When he turned back to his bed, he found that Cid had fallen asleep. This did not particularly surprise him considering how late it was. If Vincent fell asleep directly, he would only get a few hours worth before he had to go to class.  
  
He let his screen blink into his screen saver before standing, rubbing at his eyes with his human hand. He walked over to his bed, reaching out his claw for Cid's shoulder before he paused.  
  
_What am I doing...?  
  
He has to go back to his room...  
  
But why? Reno hates him, Cloud's not here...why not let him stay with me?  
  
Because...it's not...I'm not...that's not how...  
  
He didn't have a problem with it before...then again, he was drunk before...  
  
Would he really mind? I mean...I wouldn't even really touch him or anything...it's more for his benefit...he needs his sleep, he stayed up late for me...so this is better for him if he stays here...  
  
But...do I...am I okay with it? Of course I have to be, I suggested it, but...  
_  
Vincent stood there for some time, ruminating on the exact nature of his relationship with the short, temperamental blond, before he finally gave up. He kept running into the same impasse, the same conflicting logic and emotion that he could never overcome or explain.  
  
Eventually exhaustion won out. He nudged Cid gently, and he obligingly rolled towards the wall, giving him space. A vague thought crossed Vincent's mind as he settled down on top of his sheets. Why would Cid have such a natural reaction to being nudged that way?  
  
Too tired to give it proper thought, Vincent gave up. Not wanting to disturb Cid by getting underneath the blankets, he curled up, back to back with Cid, and fell asleep quickly. 


	25. Help Out

The incessant beeping of Vincent's alarm woke them both up, although the unhappy groans made it clear that neither of them wanted to do so. Vincent was the only one who had a class or at least, made the effort to go to said class, so he rolled out of bed and onto the floor. Once he had removed the imminent threat of falling back asleep, it took him around twenty minutes to pull himself together enough to get dressed. At one point he managed to stare into the distance and almost fall asleep again while putting his pants on, thus making Vincent swear to never stay up this late again. This was a promise that he by no means intended to keep, but he felt better making it anyway.  
  
He slung his backpack on his shoulder and at that point remembered that Cid had, again, spent the night. Too groggy and tired to give the possible implications of this happening for what seemed like the billionth time, he instead just checked to see if Cid was still sleeping. Cid in fact was doing just that and looked quite happy that way. Vincent felt very jealous of his slumber and wished more then anything that he could just skip his class and fall asleep on the floor.  
  
But of course, he had this paper...  
  
He grabbed his Walkman and walked out to his first class, pumping the volume as high as possible to try and keep himself awake.  
  
He found himself in his Art History auditorium without very clear memories of getting there.   
  
_Never staying up that late again...  
  
_The Art History class required a lecture hall, for reasons Vincent was far too tired to contemplate. He found a seat as far away from everyone else as possible, realized that he was late, and settled down to nap for the rest of the class. Normally this class was boring enough to put Vincent to sleep anyway, so he didn't view this as any great loss.  
  
When today's designated speaker decided to stop blabbering on about some artist or another, Relm came up to the podium. Vincent wasn't sure who else manned the Art Department but he was quite sure he didn't care enough to find out.  
  
He drifted in and out of consciousness while Relm talked about something he didn't think was important, then reminded everyone about their respective projects. Then she asked that everyone come up and put their paper on the stage.  
  
Vincent sighed and finally moved from his fairly comfortable position to look through the papers and books in his backpack. He used his claw-tips to rifle through his fairly impressive collection of printouts, handouts, and pointless outdated worksheets in search of his essay.  
  
Not finding it, he searched again, then twice more.  
  
There is nothing quite as jarring as realizing that one has just forgotten something very, very important.  
  
Now very awake, Vincent checked through his papers again and found nothing. A quick glance showed that no one else seemed to be having this problem.  
  
_Think back, think back._  
  
He had finished typing a line, although he couldn't remember now what it said, and he had saved the file...  
  
But did he print it? He didn't remember. Vincent wished he had and wished that his memory would show him as much, but sadly he just remembered saving and sleeping. Perhaps he hadn't printed it because he worried the noise might wake Cid. That would be so ironic.  
  
In his exhausted state in the morning, he must have just assumed that he had put the papers in his bag.  
  
Now moving on to full-blown panic, Vincent quickly weighed his options. There were no nearby printers, except perhaps near the mailroom computer lounge, and his dorm was not within convenient or plausible distance in order to print this essay on time. As he was now very aware, Relm did not have the utmost of patience in dealing with Vincent. At this point Vincent was willing to try for the very unlikely extension, or at least a chance to explain that he just needed to print the paper and would be back very shortly.  
  
As class ended and the great mass of students left, Vincent kept an eye out for the colorful bandana that Relm always wore. The woman was standing and speaking with Tellah and some other faculty member Vincent did not recognize, although he didn't seem too important.   
  
Vincent couldn't help but feel one of those paranoid twinges and felt fairly sure that Relm and Tellah could only be talking about Cid and Vincent. Regardless, Vincent gathered his things and resolved to talk to Relm confidently and explain things as quickly as he possibly could. With any luck, he could pull this off.  
  
He stepped up onto the stage, approaching the conversing teachers carefully.  
  
"I know! No respect, simply no respect at all..." Tellah trailed off when he noticed Vincent standing awkwardly nearby, and Relm turned. She faked a very obvious smile.  
  
"Oh, Vincent! Hello. How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine." Vincent adjusted his backpack. "Listen, I...I typed up the paper last night, as the assignment stated, but I fear I forgot to print it this morning...I stayed up rather late last night finishing it, and it must have slipped my mind...I was wondering if I could go and print it out quickly and then I could give it to you."  
  
"Oh dear." Relm looked disappointed and already Vincent knew there was no hope for him. "You read the syllabus, didn't you? I don't accept late papers."  
  
"I know but..." He knew this was useless, but he decided he may as well try anyway. "I wrote it and finished it on time, I just didn't print out the paper itself-"  
  
"I would like to believe you, Vincent, but there's no way of proving that. If a paper is not here by the end of the class period, it's late and suffers a grade penalty. I explained it the first day and I can't make any exceptions."  
  
He rubbed at his forehead, irritability and desperation meshing in his exhausted thoughts. "I spent all night typing it, I just didn't print it. I could...is there any way that I could get it to you without taking the penalty."  
  
"I'm sorry, Vincent, but I've made my policy clear." She didn't sound too sorry to Vincent. Maybe that was just him. "I'm afraid you'll have to bring it in later and just take the penalty."  
  
"All right." Vincent certainly didn't think this was all right. Of all the classes he was currently taking, this was not one that he could afford taking unnecessary penalties in. Considering his dismal track record in his normal Art class and Hojo's quite obvious dislike for him, having his grade lowered for something so trivial was not all right. But as it was, he knew that Relm had the syllabus on her side so there was little he could do. He had read it the first day but never thought the problem would arise for him. "I'll try and get it to you on time..."  
  
"You do that." Relm turned back to Tellah, ending the conversation. Vincent narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He turned and headed back to his room to print the paper.  
  
_I hate this so much._

_

* * *

_

When Vincent got back to his room, he found Cid missing. Guessing that he must have woken up and headed to class without him, he didn't worry too much. Cid could take care of himself.  
  
He printed the paper while he quietly seethed.  
  
_I can't believe this. I can't believe this. I spend all night typing this paper about someone I don't care about only to have my grade docked because I forgot to print it. It doesn't change when I wrote it...  
_  
He knew his anger was somewhat misplaced as he had been the one who forgot to print the paper in the first place, but he still felt that Relm could have been more lenient. Then again, he never liked Relm.  
  
He resolved to drop the paper off at the Art Building before heading to Prof. Hojo's class. As he walked along, he mumbled to himself angrily below his breath, continuing his somewhat unfounded dislike for Relm and her policies. Stress was beginning to weigh heavily on him regarding scholastic matters and, added with interpersonal relationships, he was beginning to feel the toll.  
  
"Not the best day for you, is it?" A familiar voice came from behind him.  
  
Vincent turned quickly to see Sephiroth shadowing him perfectly, smiling at him in a peculiar way.  
  
"What do you want?" He tried to cover the fact he had been surprised.  
  
"First you work all night on a paper you hate, and then it turns out the grade gets cut anyway. And now, you're off to visit Hojo, whom I have heard has vowed to make you two his personal subjects for today. Not the best day for you at all."  
  
"Why should I believe anything you say?" Vincent stared at his feet and tried to ignore Sephiroth. "You lied to us before about the Weapons, you're probably lying now."  
  
"I could be, yes. It's wise of you to realize that's a possibility now." Sephiroth quickened his pace so that he walked alongside Vincent. "Although, you should probably consider that I have nothing to gain from telling you this information."  
  
"If it's true. And if it isn't, you get the satisfaction of seeing Highwind and I acting as if it were."  
  
"I don't get enjoyment from such petty things." Sephiroth stared at the sky. "There are other easier people to tweak if I wanted such entertainment. No, you two are a special case."  
  
"You keep saying that. I don't believe you."  
  
"You don't have to believe me. You can still hear me. After all, you didn't believe me earlier when I mentioned Reeve and Cid, and yet I noticed your behavior changed quite noticeably around them afterwards..."  
  
Ugh, that brought back a wave of bad memories. "I don't want to talk about this. Stop stalking us."  
  
"As I said before, I don't stalk people, I gather information. At any rate, I also feel I should warn you that Thorn will be at your class today, although he'll be in no state to function. I must be going now though. I will see you again, and that's not a trite farewell."  
  
Vincent rolled his eyes in annoyance and Sephiroth vanished, much as he had their first meeting. Vincent actually had not been paying the most attention when Sephiroth left, so perhaps his disappearance this time was not so unusual. Either way, he was gone and that was a good thing for now.  
  
What did Sephiroth want?  
  
He found his thoughts changing from their oft-run path of hatred for his teachers and his life in general, focusing instead on a somewhat pressing and more disturbing problem.  
  
_Sephiroth obviously has interest in my life and in Highwind's, although he claims to watch everybody. He must have a web of informants...that would be the only possibility. _He slipped his paper into Relm's mailbox and headed to his other class._ But why would I hold such fascination for him? What is it about me that makes me so interesting, as he puts it? He must have something to gain from me, but what? What could I give him?  
_  
When he walked into the classroom, he found himself a few minutes early. Some students were already there, but not the great majority, and Hojo was readying papers for the day's lecture.  
  
Cid was not there, but he could see the red jester cap on a nearby desk. Apparently Thorn had somehow found the energy to drag himself to class, but was taking the extra time before it began to take a quick nap. Vincent did not blame him considering.  
  
Well, there was one point that Sephiroth proved to be correct on. Vincent was not about to trust him regardless.  
  
As he passed Prof. Hojo, he could feel him stare.  
  
"Valentine, where's your other half?" At the sound of his voice Vincent's mood worsened. Another point for Sephiroth. He knew this wouldn't be pleasant. "It's odd the two of you would be apart."  
  
"He should be coming soon." Vincent mumbled, well aware that no response he gave would be able to stop the class from whispering about him.  
  
He headed to the back and sat down, and Prof. Hojo smirked to himself. No, this wouldn't be pleasant at all.  
  
The class began and Cid still hadn't shown up. It figured that he would be late.  
  
"If everyone checked their syllabus, they should know that there is a paper due today, correct?"  
  
Several people jolted much like Vincent had earlier that day at the realization that no, no they had not checked their syllabus. Luckily, Vincent had tried to get ahead in this class because he hated it so very much and therefore, he did have the paper. Prof. Hojo glanced at him but seemed disappointed to not see the familiar fear. He looked around the room for an easier target.  
  
"Thorn?"  
  
_Oh no...  
_  
The sleepy jester barely stirred at the voice, but then slowly lifted his head. He blinked at Prof. Hojo a few times as if silently asking him to repeat himself.  
  
Since he had not really asked a full question, Prof. Hojo decided to ask again, thus saving Thorn some embarrassment. "I notice your brother is missing. It's odd that our defined pairs would be so split today. Regardless, you _do_ have your paper, don't you?"  
  
Vincent was sure that, even if Thorn had the paper, Zorn would not, considering what had happened recently, but Thorn showed no sign of worry. He blinked at the professor again before digging around in his backpack.  
  
"Yes..." One word replies were safe for him.  
  
Prof. Hojo again looked vaguely disappointed, having expected Thorn to either say more or not have the assignment, so he attempted to engage a conversation again.  
  
"Where is your brother, by the way? This is the first time the two of you have missed any of my classes."  
  
Hojo taught more then one class? Vincent's respect for the small jesters grew as he tried to think of dealing with Hojo more then once in a twenty-four hour period.  
  
Thorn pulled out a few papers and put them on his desk, staring down at them intently. Vincent recognized that look from this morning. He was staring into space, too tired to consciously organize what was happening. Eventually Thorn snapped his head back up and looked at Prof. Hojo.  
  
"Sick." Another dodge and another escape from more potential public embarrassment.  
  
"Your brother's sick?" Prof. Hojo seemed intent on focusing on Thorn as his target since he was being so obstinate in his resistance. "How so?"  
  
Thorn held out the papers and did not say anything. Prof. Hojo took it from him with a short quick motion. He adjusted his glasses for a moment before asking Thorn yet another question.  
  
"So Thorn did his homework regardless of not being able to come to class? Quite the talent your brother's got."  
  
There was an awkward silence. Prof. Hojo's smile indicated that he knew exactly how he had misspoken.  
  
Thorn looked utterly miserable and quite hurt. This was apparently a weakness that Hojo had not previously exploited, although he was sure that would change in the future.  
  
"I...Thorn I am...sick is Zorn...not me..."  
  
"Oh, my apologies. The two of you DO look so similar. And as you would have it, seem to have identical writing styles..."  
  
Vincent was positive now that Thorn had somehow done Zorn's homework, although he had no way of proving as such. Thankfully, before Thorn could try to defend himself, something interrupted the entire gathering.  
  
Cid did have a tendency to make an entrance. He came in panting and managed to slam the door against the opposite wall loud enough to get everyone's attention twice over. He smiled in triumph anyway, then noticed the amount of students and Prof. Hojo's withering stare.  
  
A pause.  
  
"I'm late, aren't I?"  
  
"That you are."   
  
Thorn was now forgotten for this easier target. Thorn took this respite gratefully and rested his head on his arms again, probably to try and nap some more.  
  
"Well, you know. I tried, but in the end, who the $%# cares? Anyway, here's the paper." Cid handed him the sheets before Prof. Hojo could even ask. He stared at them in disgust before snatching them from his hands. "So you can't get on my case about that."  
  
"Take your seat, Highwind."  
  
Cid smiled and headed to his typical place beside Vincent. Prof. Hojo watched their progress without much expression, but it was obvious that he was planning something.  
  
Only five minutes had passed since Cid sat down that he began whispering to Vincent. "I think I know how to help the twins."  
  
Vincent was not eager to have attention focused on him again, particularly by Prof. Hojo, so he debated ignoring Cid or just trying to cut the conversation off as soon as possible.  
  
"Great." He decided this was the most diplomatic way. He glanced up at Hojo, who had not noticed them so far.  
  
"I went and talked to Catface before class, and he said that the people at the mail room always need help and the twins work there at a time when I think we're both free, so I think we can take over their shifts."  
  
Of course, one word had to prompt a veritable speech. It was too late by this point, as Prof. Hojo had heard the soft noise and found something new to latch on to.  
  
"Highwind, what are you talking about back there?"  
  
"Nothing." Cid leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "Nothin' at all."  
  
"Oh? I don't think so." Prof. Hojo turned his full attention to Cid, who acted as if he didn't notice. The rest of the class had fallen silent, now used to these constant arguments and attacks. "I heard you whispering to Mr. Valentine quite loudly. Would you care to share with us what you were talking about?"  
  
"#$&, how grade-school is that?" Cid rolled his eyes. "No, I wouldn't, thank you."  
  
The other students in the class, save Thorn who was most likely asleep, watched in interest. Prof. Hojo picking on Cid was always interesting since Cid often mouthed off right back.  
  
"Oh, I see." Prof. Hojo handled his arrogance without a single hesitation. "You were discussing private matters with him?"  
  
Vincent buried his face in his hands, not wanting anyone to see how embarrassed he was. Cid had not expected Prof. Hojo to twist his words that way and now was more offended then he tried to admit.  
  
"No, they weren't #$&ing private matters whatever the #$& that means, I was talking about us taking a part-time job if you're so #$& curious."  
  
"A part-time job?" Prof. Hojo inclined his head at Cid in mock curiousity. "Whenever would you find the time, considering you can't find enough to make it to my class promptly?"  
  
"It's none of your business." Cid was tempted to add a few choice words to the end of that sentence but restrained himself.  
  
Vincent at this point didn't care who "won" the argument as long as both parties involved stopped talking.  
  
"So what job would you be referring too? It's hard to think of any that would require the use of two such _companions_ as yourselves at the same time."  
  
"It's none of your business." Cid repeated more firmly and Prof. Hojo shrugged.  
  
"Well, even if you don't want to share the details with me, I'm sure that any experience you and Mr. Valentine share will be quite rewarding, don't you agree?"  
  
Snickering followed that and Cid muttered beneath his breath, most likely as embarrassed as Vincent but better at hiding it.  
  
Apparently having accomplished his goal of ruining someone's day, Prof. Hojo turned back to his lecture and Cid remained silent for the rest of the class. Thankfully, he and Thorn escaped Prof. Hojo's notice and the class ended without any further conflict.  
  
"You were saying?" Vincent asked as he gathered his things. Cid looked at him for a moment before smiling.  
  
"Oh yeah! Yeah, I talked with the guy down at the mail room and he says we can take the twins' shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but we'll have to hurry down there. I told him all about the #$& they've been through and he says he won't dock their pay or anything."  
  
"That's great." Vincent felt relieved that he could lessen the pressure on the jester twins even a little. Comparatively, Vincent's own flagging grades were no problem.  
  
"Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard. I mean, we just sort stuff, so..."  
  
As the two of them walked down towards the door, they noticed Thorn still resting against the table. The two stopped and stared at him for a few moments.  
  
"Should we wake him up?"  
  
"#$& if I'm touching him, I remember what happened last time."  
  
"Oh! Hi guys!" They turned to see Reeve entering the room, cautiously avoiding Prof. Hojo as much as possible. Hojo did not seem to notice him. "I'm here to pick up Thorn."  
  
"Well, that shouldn't be too hard. He's fallen asleep."  
  
Reeve sighed and scratched at the base of his ears. "Yeah, I tried to get him to sleep yesterday, but every time I took my eyes off him he was trying to get up or escape or work or something. I could knock him out sometimes with those pills and all, but I can't keep him out ALL the time. I thought he'd at least sleep through the night, but I woke up and found him doing homework at three a.m." As if to emphasis the point, Reeve yawned. "Either way, Dr. Kiros told me to take him back to the room after each class and make sure he stays there, so..."  
  
"How's Zorn doing?" Vincent stared down at Thorn. Was he working on his brother's homework at the same time Vincent was working on his paper?  
  
"He's exactly the same in terms of not wanting to sleep. He's a bit more afraid though of something, but Thorn won't tell me what and Zorn's not talking either. It's like they're afraid if they don't do their work something or someone's going to eat their brains." Reeve wiggled his fingers in an ominous way. "He also says that he wants to be with his brother again, but that's no surprise really."  
  
"How long do you have to take care of them?" Cid watched as Reeve slowly made his way to Thorn's chair. Aware that he reacted badly to being touched, he whispered to him softly.  
  
"Hey Thorn, it's me, Cait Sith. You know me, I'm your friend. We're going back to the room now, okay? Don't worry about a thing, I've got you."  
  
Thorn mumbled something unintelligible, but he did not fight back when Reeve slid him out of his seat and picked him up. Apparently those simple words were comforting enough.  
  
"Anyway, what?"  
  
"How long you got 'em for?" Cid repeated. Reeve nodded his head at the doorway and the four made their way into the hallway.  
  
"I don't know really. Dr. Kiros says that Zorn's kind of delirious and keeps talking about weird stuff, about how something'll get him if he doesn't do his work. I guess until the two of them can do work and not go crazy or pass out."  
  
"I don't envy you, considering. They're the most determined people I know."  
  
"Ah, they're good people, just a little crazy sometimes. Where you guys going?" Reeve turned as Cid and Vincent broke off their little group outside.  
  
"We're going to take over Z an' T's mailroom shift. May as well try and help and all."  
  
"That's a good idea!" Reeve smiled brightly and shifted Thorn's weight. "I'll ask some other people if they want to help too. Considering how many random jobs they do here, I might as well."  
  
"Sounds good to me."  
  
"We'll see you later, Cait Sith."  
  
"Bye!"  
  
Reeve walked off, Thorn's red jester cap contrasting sharply with his black hair. Cid and Vincent watched him go before continuing on their way.  
  
"I wonder why they get along so well."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The twins and Cait Sith." Vincent just wanted something to talk about, so had brought up the first thing on his mind. "Their personalities don't seem to really mesh at all. I wonder why they're such friends."  
  
"Holy $&#, Vin." Cid stared at Vincent with an unbelieving smile. "You think they're friends cause their personalities are the same? #$&% no, it's cause they're total opposites! I mean #$&, just look at us!"  
  
Vincent smiled to himself. "You're right, I guess that was a bit presumptuous of me."  
  
Cid continued to ramble on about great duos who were total opposites to Vincent, but he wasn't really listening.  
  
_I guess that's why I like being with you so much...you're nothing like me._

_

* * *

_

The mailroom always seemed to be a busy place, but particularly at this shift. It was at this time that most packages had arrived and most classes got out, so most people were there to get gifts and boxes from home. The supervisor gave them a very quick rundown of what the twins did and how to do it, and Cid and Vincent caught on quickly. Vincent decided to handle getting the boxes and Cid would handle the list and signatures. This fit their personalities fairly well and they went about their business without complaint.  
  
"Hey, look at this." Vincent had been moving older boxes around while searching for 462 when an envelope fell from a higher shelf. "It looks like it was pinned against the wall."  
  
"Weird." Cid didn't look as he was too busy taking down someone's ID number. "What's it say?"  
  
"I'm not sure...it just has a sending address, but no return address. Weird. Do you think Zorn and Thorn were supposed to mail it?"  
  
"Eh, probably. It must have gotten lost in the shuffle. Just send it out anyway."  
  
Vincent thought it strange, but put it into the box of outgoing mail. As he did, he noticed a small black K marked on the back flap of the envelope.  
  
"Do you know anyone whose name starts with 'K'?"  
  
"Unless your #$ of a roommate spells Cloud with a 'K,' no one comes to mind. Why?"  
  
"I think that's who...never mind." Vincent shook his head. It was probably none of his business anyway.  
  
"Wait, there's Kefka." Cid snapped his fingers at the recollection. Vincent shook his head.  
  
"No, I don't think this is his."  
  
"It's not important anyway, Vin. Just forget about it." Cid shrugged and Vincent mimicked the movement, hoping to mimic the carelessness that inspired it.  
  
Still, he felt rather curious...why would they have hidden the letter like that? Maybe it was just misplaced but something felt odd about the whole business.  
  
"Excuse me?" A smooth voice immediately caught Vincent's attention and he turned. It wasn't Sephiroth, as he had assumed, but someone who looked rather similar to him. Same long flowing silver hair, although this man had decided to decorate it with some random feathers. Then again, there were odder fashions at this school, so feathers and an all-leather attire weren't too peculiar.  
  
"Yeah?" Cid obviously didn't trust the newcomer and with good reason. Something about his gaze was very unsettling to them both. Vincent couldn't help but feel like he wanted something very personal and there was no way of preventing him from getting it. It's not the best feeling in the world.  
  
"Perhaps I am mistaken, but don't the two jesters work here at this hour?" He inclined his head and stared at the two of them with half-lidded eyes.  
  
"Z an' T? Yeah, but we're takin' over their shift for now. Who are you anyway?"  
  
"Oh, I must have forgotten." Kuja held out a thin hand to Cid, who did not make any move to take it. "My name is Kuja. I simply wanted to speak with my two favorite jesters, but they aren't here. How very upsetting."  
  
When Cid did not take his hand, Kuja let it move back to brush a loose strand of hair from his face.  
  
"They may not be here for a while." Vincent ventured to speak and regretted it soon afterwards. Kuja stared directly at him and Vincent did not like the look in his eyes.  
  
"Then perhaps you could be so kind as to tell me where they are."  
  
Vincent did not think that was a good idea and neither did Cid, but they weren't sure how to say that without sounding paranoid. "You just want to talk to them?"  
  
"Oh yes." Kuja smiled at Cid in a strange way that made him incredibly uncomfortable. "We're friends, you see. Our relationship goes back some time and I am...worried about them. I would like to know if they are all right."  
  
Vincent wanted to accuse Kuja of lying, but did not have the courage or the appropriate information to do so without feeling like an idiot. Everything about Kuja seemed to indicate that he used whatever was around him to his own gain, and Vincent felt more sure that Kuja was merely using the twins then anything else in his life. Did Reeve know about this? Why would the twins associate with someone this sexually creepy anyway? Unless...  
  
"Highwind..." Vincent whispered to him, keeping an eye on Kuja at all times. Kuja seemed rather amused at the proceedings. "I think Zorn and Thorn work for him."  
  
"#$&...he looks like a total #$&$..."  
  
"Well, even if he does, we should tell him what happened...if Zorn and Thorn do work for him, he should know, right? Maybe we can take their job for him too."  
  
"It's worth a shot I guess...%$#, I don't like him though, he gives me the #$&#ing creeps."  
  
Kuja merely leaned against the counter and stared at the two of them, as if measuring which one would be more useful. He stared at Vincent quite hard.  
  
"Well, have you reached a decision?"  
  
"The twins work for you, don't they?" Vincent didn't like having Kuja stare at him, but wanted to ask as quickly as possible in hopes it would make him leave.  
  
Kuja blinked and then smiled slowly. "I suppose you could say that."  
  
"Well, they can't work for you right now." Cid's tone indicated he thought this was a good thing. "Zorn had a #$&#in' mental breakdown and Thorn's #$&ed up too as a result. They've got doctors trying to get 'em to sleep an' #$&#, so they won't be back for a while."  
  
"Oh." Kuja looked displeased. It was an unpleasant change in his demeanor. While before he had given an aura of pure sexuality, this time it was underlain with the possibility of quite real pain if someone crossed him. He was not a man to be messed with. "How...unfortunate. I don't suppose you know where they are so I can inform them as to how to make up their work hours?"  
  
"We could try to make it up for you if you want." Vincent did not feel comfortable in telling Kuja where they were, particularly now that he seemed so potentially violent.  
  
Kuja laughed. "No, I'm afraid you aren't...knowledgeable enough to help me. I need to speak with the jester twins."  
  
"Well, I know where one of 'em is." Cid muttered reluctantly. "The other one is off with some #$&, I don't know who, but Zorn is with Doc Kiros at the health center."  
  
Kuja blinked at him a few times, then smiled again. "Thank you very much, Mr...I don't believe I caught your name." 

They didn't feel comfortable about giving their names either, but staying silent would seem very suspicious. "I'm Cid Highwind and this is my bud, Vin."  
  
"Vincent Valentine." Vincent finished, although he did not want to.  
  
"Well then, thank you, Mr. Highwind." Kuja reached out and placed a hand on Cid's shoulder. He jumped visibly at the contact, but it was brief. Kuja pulled away and waved as he walked off, silver hair swaying with his movements.  
  
Cid brushed off his shoulder with a great deal of distaste as Vincent watched him go.  
  
"You don't think we made a mistake, do you?"  
  
"#$&, I dunno, I'm just glad that creepy #$'s gone. #$&."  
  
A few moments went by in silence.  
  
"I guess we should get back to work..." Vincent mumbled and Cid nodded, and the two returned woodenly to what they had been doing.  
  
_I hope I did the right thing...I hope Kuja doesn't do something horrible to them...but would he really have a need to be so upset? It's not their fault they worked themselves until they broke really...he would have no right to get mad at them...but then again, you don't really need a right to be mad at someone. I hope he doesn't hurt him. I'll never forgive myself.  
_  
Both of them could not put Kuja out of their minds.  
  
"210?"  
  
"Got it..."  
  
Vincent slid the large box off the shelf with distracted hands and ended up dropping it on the floor. Thankfully, it was large enough so that the fall wasn't too damaging, although the box's owner was not happy about it at all.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just wasn't paying attention."  
  
"Jesus, Vin..." Cid said with no anger. He reached out to pick up the box at the same time that Vincent did.  
  
Their hands touched for a moment on the top of the box, and at the contact the two stared at each other for a few seconds. As Vincent stared at him, he felt a very strange sense of warmth that was wholly unfamiliar, and he looked away immediately. This sentiment seemed echoed by Cid who turned away as well.   
  
It was ironic how they could have spent so much time near each other, even sleeping in the same bed, and yet a single accidental touch was what indicated another level of possibility.  
  
_Why do I like being with you so much?_  
  
A question that had been lingering on Vincent's mind for days now had a possible answer. Not one that he was ready to consider, but it was still there.  
  
_Why does my face feel hot?_

* * *

Author's Note: Been almost a whole year since I've updated this. HURRAH. I actually do have plans for this and I know where it's going. I'm just a slacker. I was actually inspired to write this because a person did some incredibly beautiful fanart for me (www-deviantart-com/deviation/7989080/ switch - for .) and talked about how, even though she was Portugese, she really enjoyed this fic and wanted me to update. It made me realize that this fic has really made a lot of people happy, and I really should do something for everyone. So this update goes out to Lily-Carrol. Thanks fer reminding me why I started writing this in da first place.


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